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THE    PICTURESQUE 
ST.  LAWRENCE 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK    •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Limited 

LONDON   •    BOMBAY   ■    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd 

TORONTO 


Besid:'  the  St.  La-ivrenci-  nt  Kingston 


THE 

PICTURESQUE 

ST.  LAWRENCE 


WRITTEN  AND 
ILLUSTRATED  BY 
CLIFTON  JOHNSON 


PICTURESQUE 
RIVER  SERIES 


THE    MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

New  York     igio 
LONDON:    MACMILLAN    AND     CO.      LIMITED 


Copyright,  IQIO, 

by  The  Macmillan  Comptiny. 

Published   April,   1910 


THE  PICTURESQUE 
ST.   LAWRENCE 


Electrotyped 

and 

Printed 

by  The 

F.  A.  Bassette  Company 

Springfeld,  Mass. 


Contents 


I. 

The  Earliest  Explorers 

I 

II. 

The  Thousand  Islands 

21 

III. 

The  Rapids      .... 

41 

IV. 

Early  Montreal 

74 

V. 

The  Montreal  of  Today     . 

92 

VI. 

The  Ottawa      .... 

106 

VII. 

The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain 

124 

VIII. 

The  Historic  St.  Francis 

144 

IX. 

Quebec's  Eventful  History 

156 

X. 

The  Quebec  of  the  Present 

187 

XI. 

From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf 

205 

XII. 

The  Beautiful  Saguenay    . 

229 

XIII. 

The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter 

240 

▼11 


Illustrations 


Beside  the  St.  Lawrence  at  Kingston        Frontispiece 

vxaita  PAsx 
Montreal   and    Mount    Royal    as    seen    from 

Helen's  Isle    ......  4 

The   mountainous   northern    shore    of   lower 


Quebec  Citadel  and  Lower  town  in  winter 

The  Tadousac  landing  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Saguenay        .... 

Gateway  to  Fort  Frontenac 

The  first  of  the  Thousand  Islands  near  King 
ston       ..... 

The  historic  lighthouse  at  Prescott 

The  Long  Sault  Rapids 

Church  and  priest's  house  at  St.  Regis 

On  the  shores  of  Lake  St.  Louis 

Lachine      ..... 

An  old  farmhouse 

Sailing  vessels  at  the  Montreal  wharves 

The  Chateau  de  Ramezay    . 

The  Place  d'  Armes  and  Notre  Dame  Cathe- 
dral        

At  the  entrance  to  the  Lachine  Canal 


9 
16 

21 
25 

32 
36 
41 
48 
53 
56 

65 
68 

73 

80 
85 


Illustrations 


In  the  marketplace   near    the    Nelson   Mon 

ument   ...... 

The  river  road  on  Montreal  Island 

The  Lake  of  the  Two  Mountains 

Looking  across  the  Ottawa  toward  the  parlia' 

ment  buildings         .... 
The  River  Rideau  near  Ottawa     . 
A  field  on  the  borders  of  a  village 
Old  Fort  Chambly       .... 
A  Lake  Champlain  ferryboat 
Fort  Frederic  at  Crown  Point 
The  waterfalls  at  the  entrance  to  the  Ausable 

Chasm  ...... 

Near    the    head    of   tide-water   above   Three 

Rivers   ...... 

On  the  St.  Francis  at  Sherbrooke 
The  citadel  crowned  height  of  Quebec 
A  byway  adjoining  the  Basilica 
Cape  Diamond    ..... 

Wolfe's  Cove       ..... 

Overlooking  the  St.  Lawrence  from  the  Plains 

of  Abraham  ..... 
The  Champlain  Monument 
Sous  le  Cap  Street  .... 
Quebec — A  Caleche  .... 
Saint  Anne  de  Beaupre 
The  sacred  stairway  .... 
The  Isle  of  Hazels  as  seen  from  Las  Eboule- 

ments    ....... 


216 


Illustrations 

xi 

The  Falls  of  Montmorency 

225 

On  the  Saguenay  Steamer    . 

.       228 

Chicoutimi           .          .          .          .          . 

•       232 

Cape  Eternity  and  Cape  Trinity   . 

241 

The  road  up  Mount  Royal   . 

•       245 

Snowbound          .          .          .          .          . 

246 

February  in  a  country  village 

250 

Introductory  Note 

It  is  believed  that  the  volumes  in  this  Pic- 
turesque River  Series  are  sufficiently  compre- 
hensive in  their  text  to  make  them  distinctly 
valuable  as  guide  books;  and  at  the  same  time 
they  are  compact  enough  in  size  not  to  be  burden- 
some to  those  who  wish  to  carry  them  in  trunk 
or  bag.  There  is,  of  course,  no  attempt  to  give 
a  detailed  catalog  of  all  the  charms  of  any  par- 
ticular stream,  for  that  could  only  be  done  at  a 
sacrifice  of  readableness.  But  the  more  striking 
features — picturesque,  historic,  literary,  legend- 
ary— have  received  ample  attention.  A  great 
variety  of  volumes  more  or  less  closely  related 
to  the  story  of  each  river  has  been  consulted, 
and  many  fragments  of  fact  and  fancy  have 
been  culled  from  such  sources  and  woven  into  the 
text  of  the  present  series;  but  there  is  also 
included  much  which  is  the  result  of  personal 
observation,  and  of  contact  with  chance  ac- 
quaintances, who  furnish  to  every  traveller  a 
great  deal  of  the  pleasure  and  human  interest 
of  any  particular  journey. 


The  numerous  pictures  were  all  made  espe- 
cially for  these  books  with  the  intent  of  supplying 
an  attractive  summary  of  each  stream's  indiv- 
uality.  All  in  all,  the  books,  both  in  their 
literary  and  pictorial  features,  are  of  such  a 
character  that  they  should  be  of  general  interest 
and  in  a  marked  degree  serviceable  to  whoever 
wishes  to  make  a  journey  beside  or  on  any  of 
the  rivers  that  find  place  in  this  series. 


The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 
I 

THE    EARLIEST    EXPLORERS 

'*  I  ^HE  St.  Lawrence,  measured  from  its  most 
-■-  distant  source,  is  over  two  thousand  miles 
long,  but  ordinarily  the  name  is  only  applied  to 
the  seven  hundred  miles  between  Lake  Ontario 
and  the  Gulf.  It  drains  an  immense  portion  of 
North  America,  and  the  amount  of  water  it 
carries  to  the  ocean  is  exceeded  by  no  other  river 
on  the  globe  except  the  Amazon.  Nearly  all 
its  feeders  are  clear  woodland  trout  or  salmon 
streams,  and  its  purity  is  no  less  remarkable 
than  its  volume.  Its  waters  shake  the  earth  at 
Niagara;  and  "The  Great  Lakes  are  its  camp- 
ing grounds,  where  its  hosts  repose  under  the 
sun  and  stars  in  areas  like  that  of  states  and 
kingdoms." 

The  breadth  of  its  upper  course  is  seldom 
less  than  a  mile,  and  in  several  places  there  are 
expansions  of  such  extent  that  they  have  re- 
ceived the  name  of  lake.     Below  Quebec  it  has 


2         The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

a  width  of  from  twenty  to  thirty  miles.  The 
influence  of  the  tide  is  felt  more  than  five  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  gulf,  and  the  river  is  navi- 
gable for  large  sea-going  vessels  to  Montreal, 
eighty  miles  farther  inland.  Rapids  interrupt 
progress  in  the  river  itself  beyond  that  point, 
but  by  the  aid  of  canals  continuous  water  com- 
munication is  obtained  to  the  head  of  Lake 
Superior.  Indeed,  taking  the  river,  the  canals 
and  lakes  together,  this  is  the  grandest  system 
of  inland  navigation  in  the  world. 

Some  of  the  river's  tributaries  are  themselves 
of  notable  size.  The  largest  are  the  Ottawa 
and  the  Saguenay,  which  flow  into  it  from  the 
north;  but  mention  should  also  be  made  of 
those  historic  water  thoroughfares — the  Riche- 
lieu and  St.  Francis,  which  come  from  the  south. 
As  a  rule,  the  tributary  streams  run  a  rough  and 
tortuous  course  and  abound  in  rapids  and  water- 
falls that  give  them  beauty  and  often  furnish 
valuable  power. 

The  streams  were  the  main  highways  of  the 
savages,  and  they  built  their  villages  on  the 
banks,  fished  in  the  waters  and  hunted  in  the 
neighboring  woodlands.  The  Indians  had  no 
horses  or  other  beasts  of  burden,  and  this  lack, 
as   much   as  the  difficulties  of  the  wilderness, 


The  Earliest  Explorers  3 

hindered  their  travel  by  land.  Their  journey- 
ing was  therefore  largely  confined  to  the  lakes 
and  streams  leaving  no  trail  by  w^hich  their  move- 
ments could  be  traced,  except  where  they  carried 
their  light  birch-bark  canoes  around  rapids  or 
falls,  or  where  a  portage  was  necessary  from  one 
waterway  to  another. 

The  rivers  and  the  lakes  in  like  manner 
served  the  early  comers  from  Europe  when  they 
wanted  to  penetrate  inland,  and  on  their  banks 
were  established  the  homes  of  such  settlers  as 
ventured  away  from  the  seacoast.  Under  these 
conditions  it  is  only  natural  that  the  whole 
history  of  Canada  should  be  closely  interwoven 
with  that  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  it  was  by 
way  of  this  stream  that  the  poineers  from  France 
overran  a  great  part  of  the  interior  of  the 
continent  before  the  settlers  of  the  Atlantic 
Coast  had  crossed  the  Appalachians. 

Within  a  few  years  after  Columbus  made  his 
first  voyage  to  the  New  World,  the  French 
fishing  boats  began  to  frequent  the  cod-banks 
of  Newfoundland.  This  fishery  soon  became 
well  established,  and  as  early  as  15 17  no  less 
than  fifty  Spanish,  French  and  Portuguese 
vessels  were  engaged  in  it  at  the  same  time. 
But  there  was  little  inclination  on  the  part  of  the 


4  The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

voyagers  to  make  permanent  settlements  on  the 
rocky  shores  that  bordered  the  fishing  grounds 
or  to  attempt  inland  exploration,  for  the  region 
was  regarded  with  a  good  deal  of  superstitious 
fear.  Griffins  were  supposed  to  infest  the 
gloomy  mountains  of  Labrador;  and  fiends, 
with  wings,  horns  and  tail,  were  said  to  have 
taken  possession  of  an  island  north  of  New- 
foundland. Voyagers  passing  this  "Isle  of 
Demons"  heard  the  din  of  infernal  orgies;  and 
the  mariners  who  had  occasion  to  set  foot  on  its 
shores  would  never  venture  alone  into  the 
haunted  woods.  It  was  even  affirmed  that  the 
Indians  had  abandoned  the  island,  so  tormented 
were  they  by  the  imps  of  darkness. 

Fishermen  and  explorers  gradually  made 
known  the  contour  of  Newfoundland  and  the 
adjoining  mainland;  but  the  first  person  to  go 
up  the  St.  Lawrence  was  Jacques  Cartier.  He 
was  a  man  who  came  of  a  family  of  hardy  sailors, 
and  had  gone  to  sea  as  a  mere  boy.  Later  he 
became  a  corsair  roaming  the  high  seas  in  search 
of  weaker  vessels  to  capture,  generally,  though 
not  always,  those  of  a  nation  with  which  his 
own  chanced  to  be  at  war;  and  his  ideas  of 
right  and  wrong  were  never  very  clear.  When  he 
sailed  from  France  in  1534  on  his  earliest  voyage 


fti 


The  Earliest  Explorers  5 

to  the  New  World  he  was  forty  years  old,  with 
a  well-established  reputation  for  courage  and 
energy.  This  venture  was  made  in  the  hope  of 
adding  to  his  own  and  his  country's  prosperity 
by  finding  a  short  route  to  China  and  India. 
His  two  little  vessels  were  smaller  than  most 
modern  yachts,  but  they  safely  crossed  the  path- 
less waste  of  waters,  and  at  the  end  of  three 
weeks  the  voyagers  sighted  Newfoundland  and 
put  into  a  harbor  to  repair  their  ships.  Then 
they  sailed  northward  to  the  coast  of  Labrador 
which  looked  so  dreary,  even  in  the  month  of 
June,  that  they  were  persuaded  it  must  be  the 
land  told  of  in  the  Bible,  set  apart  for  Cain;  and 
the  inhabitants  were  so  unfriendly  it  seemed 
quite  likely  they  were  that  outcast's  descendants. 

Cartier  passed  between  Labrador  and  New- 
foundland through  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle  and 
cruised  southward  to  the  coast  of  New  Bruns- 
wick where  he  entered  Miramichi  Bay.  While 
there  so  many  savages  paddled  out  in  their 
canoes  to  see  the  wonderful  strangers  in  boats 
moving  with  wings  that  Cartier  fired  his  cannon 
to  scare  them  away.  But  the  next  day  he  went 
on  shore  and  made  friends  with  the  chief  of  the 
Indians  by  giving  him  a  red  hat. 


6  The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

When  the  little  vessels  resumed  their  voyage 
they  w^ent  up  the  coast  to  the  peninsula  that 
thrusts  out  into  the  gulf  south  of  the  great  river. 
At  Gaspe,  Cartier  landed  and  planted  a  cross  and 
took  captive  two  young  Indians  from  far  up  the 
St.  Lawrence  who  had  come  down  to  the  sea  to 
catch  mackerel.  Then  he  crossed  to  the  Island 
of  Anticosti,  where  he  was  actually  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  river,  had  he  only  known  it.  But 
stormy  autumn  was  at  hand,  and  he  bore  away 
for  France  carrying  with  him,  as  a  sample  of  the 
natural  products  of  the  region  he  had  explored, 
the  two  Indian  captives. 

The  following  year,  in  May,  Cartier  again 
sailed  for  the  New  World,  this  time  with  three 
vessels.  His  followers  consisted  of  a  mixed 
company  of  gentleman  rovers  who  wanted  to  go, 
criminals  from  the  jails  who  did  not  want  to  go, 
and  the  two  kidnapped  Indians.  When  the 
Atlantic  had  been  crossed  Cartier  went  through 
the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle  just  as  he  had  on  his 
previous  voyage.  Then  he  put  into  a  small  bay 
on  the  Labrador  coast  to  which  he  gave  the  name 
of  St.  Lawrence,  a  name  afterward  applied  to 
the  entire  gulf  and  to  the  great  river  beyond. 

Later,  as  he  was  sailing  westward  along  the 
bleak  coast  of  the  Gaspe  Peninsula,  where  to 


The  Earliest  Explorers  7 

the  south  could  be  seen  the  blue  Gaspe  range  of 
mountains  with  its  lofty  sentinels,  the  Shick- 
shaws,  Cartier  questioned  his  Indians  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  channel  before  them. 

"It  is  a  river  without  end,"  they  replied. 

The  breadth  of  the  channel  and  the  saltness 
of  the  water  made  Cartier  doubt  that  it  could 
really  be  a  river,  and  he  sailed  on  hoping  he  had 
found  a  passage  to  the  Indies.  It  seemed  a  haz- 
ardous undertaking  to  go  on  thus  with  no  better 
pilots  than  the  two  young  Indians;  but  fortune 
favored,  and  on  the  first  of  September  the  voy- 
agers reached  the  gorge  of  the  Saguenay  with 
its  towering  cliffs  and  marvellous  depth  of  water. 
The  savage,  mountainous  shores  of  this  stream 
from  the  north  disinclined  Cartier  to  explore  in 
that  direction,  though  his  Indians  told  him  won- 
derful stories  of  mines  and  gems  that  could  be 
found  beyond  the  rocky  barriers.  He  continued 
up  the  St.  Lawrence  and  anchored  a  few  miles 
below  what  is  now  Quebec,  between  the  northern 
shore  and  the  richly  wooded  Isle  of  Orleans.  In- 
dians came  swarming  from  the  shores  paddling 
their  canoes  about  the  ships  and  clambering  to  the 
decks  to  gaze  in  bewilderment  at  the  voyagers 
and  their  belongings. 


8  The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Cartier  received  them  kindly,  listened  to  a 
long  speech  by  their  great  chief,  Donnacona, 
whom  he  regaled  with  bread  and  wine;  and 
after  his  guests  departed  set  forth  in  a  boat  to 
explore  the  river  above. 

When  he  came  to  the  west  end  of  the  Isle  of 
Orleans  the  river  again  spread  broad  before  him, 
and  on  ahead  a  mighty  promontory  thrust  its 
rugged  front  out  into  the  current  from  the  north 
shore  of  the  mainland.  .  East  of  the  crag  a 
tributary  joined  the  main  stream.  This  was  the 
river  now  called  the  St.  Charles.  Cartier  as- 
cended it  a  short  distance,  landed,  crossed  the 
meadows,  clambered  up  the  rocks  through  the 
forest  and  emerged  on  a  clearing  where  there 
was  a  squalid  hamlet  of  bark  huts.  Here  dwelt 
the  chief  that  Cartier  had  entertained  on  his 
vessel,  and  the  village  was  called  Stadacona. 
The  name,  which  means  "a  crossing  on  floating 
wood,"  originated  in  the  fact  that  at  high  tide 
the  mouth  of  the  St.  Charles  was  frequently  so 
blocked  with  driftwood  it  could  be  crossed  on 
foot.  After  satisfying  their  curiosity  the  visitors 
returned  to  their  ships. 

The  Indians  said  that  many  days'  journey  up 
the  river  was  a  much  larger  village,  named 
Hochelaga;     but   when    Cartier   told    them    he 


The  Earliest  Explorers  9 

would  go  to  see  it  they  tried  to  dissuade  him, 
probably  because  they  did  not  wish  to  share 
with  others  the  advantages  of  trading  with  the 
white  men.  Their  arguments  availed  nothing, 
and  they  concluded  to  try  another  sort  of  appeal. 
One  morning,  the  Frenchmen,  looking  up  the 
river  from  their  anchored  ships,  beheld  three 
Indians  attired  to  represent  devils  approaching 
in  a  canoe.  The  masqueraders  were  dressed  in 
black  and  white  dog  skins,  they  had  blackened 
their  faces,  and  on  their  heads  were  antlers  as 
long  as  a  man's  arm.  They  allowed  their  canoe 
to  drift  slowly  past  the  ship  while  the  chief  fiend 
delivered  a  loud-voiced  harangue. 

Then  they  paddled  to  the  shore  where  their 
fellow-tribesmen  rushed  pell-mell  from  the  bor- 
dering woods,  and  with  shrill  clamors  bore  them 
into  the  sheltering  thickets.  In  this  leafy  seclu- 
sion the  French  heard  the  Indians  declaiming 
in  solemn  conclave  for  a  full  half  hour.  At  length 
the  two  young  Indians  who  had  been  Cartier's 
captives  came  out  of  the  bushes  and  enacted  a 
pantomime  of  amazement  and  terror.  Cartier 
shouted  from  the  vessel  to  ask  what  was  the 
matter.  They  replied  that  the  god  Coudouagny 
had  sent  to  warn  the  French  against  attempting 
to  ascend  the  river,  and  that  if  the  voyagers  per- 


10       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

sisted  in  going  thither  they  would  be  overwhelmed 
with  snowstorms,  gales  and  drifting  ice. 

The  French  replied  that  Coudouagny  was  a 
fool,  and  made  ready  for  the  expedition.  Carrier 
set  out  for  Hochelaga  in  his  smallest  ship  and 
two  open  boats,  accompanied  by  several  of  the 
gentlemen  who  had  come  with  him  from  France, 
and  fifty  sailors.  They  glided  on  their  way 
with  the  forests  of  gay  autumnal  verdure  on 
either  hand  festooned  with  grape-vines,  and  the 
water  alive  with  wild-fowl.  The  ship  grounded, 
but  they  went  on  in  the  boats,  and  on  the  second 
of  October  neared  Hochelaga.  The  Indians  had 
seen  them  coming,  and  when  they  approached 
the  shore,  just  below  where  now  are  Montreal's 
quays  and  storehouses  on  the  southern  side  of 
the  great  island  that  the  city  occupies,  they 
found  a  throng  of  savages  gathered  to  receive 
them.  As  soon  as  the  boats  touched  the  land 
the  Indians  crowded  around,  dancing  and  sing- 
ing, and  bestowing  on  the  strangers  gifts  offish  and 
maize.  The  natives  continued  to  express  their 
delight  even  after  it  grew  dark;  for  the  night  was 
lighted  up  far  and  near  with  fires  around  which 
the  savages  could  be  seen  from  the  French  camp, 
still  engaged  in  their  revels. 


The  Earliest  Explorers  ii 

At  dawn  the  French  started  to  follow  a  path 
leading  northward  through  the  forest  that  cov- 
ered the  site  of  the  future  city.  Presently  they 
met  an  Indian  chief  with  a  numerous  retinue, 
who  greeted  them  courteously  and  invited  them 
to  pause  and  warm  themselves  by  a  fire  kindled 
beside  the  path.  When  they  had  seated  them- 
selves the  chief  made  them  a  speech,  and  was 
requited  for  his  eloquence  by  two  hatchets,  two 
knives,  and  a  crucifix.  Then  the  march  was 
resumed,  and  soon  the  strangers  came  to  open 
fields  covered  with  ripened  maize,  and  on  beyond 
rose  a  steep,  wooded  mountain  with  the  Indian 
town  at  its  base. 

The  town  was  encircled  with  palisades  formed 
of  trunks  of  trees  set  in  a  triple  row.  The  middle 
row  was  upright,  while  the  outer  and  inner  ones 
inclined  and  crossed  near  the  summit  where 
they  were  lashed  to  a  horizontal  pole.  On  the 
inner  side  of  the  palisades  were  galleries  for  the 
defenders  with  rude  ladders  to  mount  to  them 
and  quantities  of  stones  ready  to  throw  down  on 
the  heads  of  assailants.  When  the  voyagers 
entered  the  narrow  portal  they  found  about  half 
a  hundred  large  oblong  dwellings,  each  serving 
for  several  families.  These  were  fifty  yards  or 
so  long,   and   twelve  or  fifteen  wide,   and   had 


12       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

frames  of  slender  poles  covered  with  sheets  of 
bark.  Through  the  middle  of  each  wigwam  ran 
a  passage  with  stone  fireplaces  at  intervals  and 
openings  in  the  roof  above  to  allow  some  of  the 
smoke  to  escape.  Kettles  of  baked  clay  were 
used  for  cooking  purposes.  Along  the  borders 
of  the  apartments  were  benches  covered  with 
furs  to  serve  for  beds;  and  on  the  walls  hung 
sheaves  of  stone  arrows,  and  occasional  toma- 
hawks, flint  knives,  red  clay  pipes  and  dried 
human  scalps. 

The  dwellings  were  arranged  about  an  open 
area  a  stone's  throw  in  width,  and  here  Carrier 
and  his  followers  were  surrounded  by  swarms  of 
women  and  children.  With  their  white  skins, 
bearded  faces  and  strange  attire  and  weapons, 
they  doubtless  seemed  demigods  rather  than 
men.  Presently  a  troop  of  women  brought  mats, 
the  bare  earth  was  carpeted  for  the  guests,  and 
they  sat  down.  Then  the  feminine  and  juvenile 
rabble  was  banished  to  a  distance  by  the  warriors, 
who  squatted  row  on  row  around  the  whites. 
As  soon  as  they  had  settled  themselves  the  bed- 
ridden old  chief  of  the  nation,  paralyzed,  helpless 
and  squalid,  was  borne  on  a  deerskin  by  some 
of  his  subjects  into  the  midst  of  the  assembly 
and   placed   before  Cartier.     The   aged   savage 


The  Earliest  Explorers  13 

pointed  feebly  to  his  powerless  limbs  and  im- 
plored the  healing  touch  from  the  hand  of  the 
French  chief.  Then  from  the  surrounding 
dwellings  came  a  woful  procession  of  the  sick, 
the  lame,  the  blind,  carried  or  led  forth,  and  all 
gathered  before  the  perplexed  commander  as 
if  he  were  a  powerful  magician  capable  of  re- 
storing them  to  immediate  health. 

The  best  he  could  do  was  to  pronounce  over 
his  petitioners  some  verses  from  the  Bible,  make 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  utter  a  prayer.  Then 
came  a  distribution  of  presents.  Knives  and 
hatchets  were  given  to  the  men,  and  beads  to 
the  women,  while  pewter  rings  and  other 
trinkets  were  thrown  among  the  children  who 
engaged  in  a  vigorous  scramble  to  secure  these 
treasures. 

Now  the  French  filed  out  of  the  town,  and, 
accompanied  by  a  troop  of  Indians,  climbed  to 
the  top  of  the  neighboring  mountain,  whence 
they  could  see  in  all  directions  the  mantling 
forest,  broken  only  by  the  cornfields  just  below, 
and  by  the  broad  river  glistening  amid  the  realm 
of  verdure.  Cartier  called  the  height  Mount 
Royal,  and  this  same  name  in  slightly  different 
form  is  that  of  the  busy  city  which  now  occupies 
the  site  of  the  old  Indian  town. 


14       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

The  French  presently  returned  to  their  boats 
and  rowed  away  down  the  river.  When  they 
arrived  at  Stadacona  they  found  that  their  com- 
panions had  built  a  fort  of  palisades  on  the  bank 
of  the  St.  Charles,  and  close  by  were  moored  the 
ships.  Here  they  were  all  soon  besieged  by  the 
rigors  of  the  Canadian  winter.  The  streams  were 
frozen  over,  and  the  snow  blanketed  everything 
with  white,  and  drifted  above  the  sides  of  the 
ships.  At  first  the  Indians  came  daily  wading 
through  the  snow  to  the  fort,  but  by  the  end  of 
December  their  visits  had  almost  ceased.  Scurvy 
broke  out  among  the  French,  and  man  after 
man  succumbed,  till  twenty-five  had  died,  and 
only  three  or  four  were  left  in  health.  The 
ground  was  so  hard  they  could  not  bury  their 
dead,  and  they  hid  the  bodies  in  the  snow-drifts. 
Cartier  nailed  an  image  of  the  Virgin  against  a 
tree,  and  on  a  Sunday  summoned  forth  his  fol- 
lowers, who,  haggard  and  woe-begone,  moved 
in  feeble  procession  to  the  spot.  There  they 
knelt  in  the  snow  before  the  holy  symbol  and 
sang  litanies  and  psalms.  That  day  another  of 
the  party  died. 

There  was  fear  that  the  Indians,  hearing  of 
the  weakness  of  the  whites,  might  finish  the  work 
the  scurvy  had  begun.    So  none  were  allowed  to 


The  Earliest  Explorers  15 

approach  the  fort;  and  when  a  party  of  savages 
lingered  within  hearing,  the  invalid  garrison  beat 
with  sticks  and  stones  against  the  walls  that  the 
clatter  might  delude  their  dangerous  neighbors 
into  thinking  the  men  in  the  fort  were  engaged 
in  hard  labor.  One  day,  Cartier,  walking  near 
the  river,  met  an  Indian  who  had  been  suffering 
not  long  before  with  scurvy,  as  had  many  of  the 
other  Indians.  He  was  now  in  high  health  and 
spirits.  Cartier  asked  him  by  what  means  he 
had  been  cured,  and  the  Indian  replied  it  was 
by  drinking  a  decoction  made  from  the  leaves 
of  the  arbor-vitae.  As  soon  as  possible,  after 
Cartier  had  returned  and  reported  at  the  fort,  a 
copious  quantity  of  this  healing  draught  was 
prepared.  The  men  drank  freely  and  health  and 
hope  began  to  revisit  the  hapless  company. 

The  winter  at  last  wore  away,  the  ships  were 
released  from  the  grip  of  the  ice,  and  the  French 
made  ready  to  sail  for  France.  Cartier  wanted 
to  take  back  some  of  the  natives  to  tell  of  the 
marvels  of  the  region  he  had  discovered,  and  as 
he  knew  they  would  not  go  of  their  own  free  will, 
he  lured  Donnacona  and  several  of  his  chiefs  to 
the  fort  where  he  had  them  seized  and  hurried 
on  board  the  ships.  Then  the  voyagers  erected 
a  cross  on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  raised  the  flag 


1 6       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

of  France  near  by  and  sailed  away  down  the 
river.  The  tribesmen  of  Donnacona  followed 
in  their  canoes  as  far  as  the  Isle  of  Hazels  begging 
for  the  release  of  the  kidnapped  chiefs,  but 
without  avail.  Cartier  kept  on  his  course  and 
reached  France  in  midsummer. 

In  his  account  of  this  year  in  the  New  World 
he  calls  the  St.  Lawrence  "the  River  of  Hoche- 
laga,"  or  "the  great  river  of  Canada."  Canada 
was  an  Indian  word  equivalent  to  town  or 
village  and  was  at  first  applied  by  the  French  to 
only  a  limited  portion  of  the  valley  about  Stada- 
cona.  But  the  extent  of  territory  it  covered  was 
gradually  enlarged  until  it  now  embraces  all 
the  British  dominions  in  North  America  except 
Newfoundland  and  Labrador. 

Five  years  passed,  and  we  find  Cartier  for  a 
third  time  on  his  way  across  the  Atlantic.  "We 
have  resolved,"  said  the  king,  *'to  send  him 
again  to  the  lands  of  Canada  and  Hochelaga, 
which  form  the  extremity  of  Asia  toward  the 
west."  The  object  of  the  expedition  was  dis- 
covery, settlement,  and  the  conversion  of  the 
Indians. 

In  the  course  of  time  Cartier's  fleet  of  five 
ships  cast  anchor  beneath  the  cliffs  of  Quebec. 
Canoes   came   out   from   the   shore    filled   with 


>>. 


The  Earliest  Explorers  17 

feathered  savages  inquiring  for  their  kidnapped 
chiefs.  But  Cartier  answered  evasively.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  the  captives  had  all  died  within  a 
year  or  two,  though  he  only  acknowledged  the 
death  of  Donnacona  and  declared  that  the  others 
had  married  white  women  and  were  so  contented 
with  their  new  life  that  they  had  refused  to  come 
back. 

The  French  presently  went  a  few  miles  farther 
up  the  river  to  Cap  Rouge  where  they  landed. 
Here  they  picked  up  quartz  crystals  on  the  shore 
and  thought  them  diamonds,  rambled  through 
the  tall  grass  of  the  meadow  in  an  adjacent  glen 
that  opened  back  inland,  climbed  the  steep 
promontory  whence  they  looked  down  on  the 
neighboring  wooded  slopes,  and  in  a  quarry 
of  slate  gathered  scales  of  a  yellow  mineral 
that  glistened  like  gold.  Later  they  cleared  off 
a  patch  of  woods,  sowed  some  turnip  seed,  cut 
a  zigzag  road  up  the  height,  and  built  two  forts, 
one  at  the  summit  and  one  on  the  shore  below. 

A  nobleman  named  Roberval  was  to  follow 
Cartier  from  France  and  reinforce  his  expedition; 
and  after  considerable  delay,  he  set  sail  with 
three  ships  and  two  hundred  colonists.  But 
hardly  had  he  crossed  the  Atlantic  when  he  met 
Cartier's  fleet  on  its  way  home.    What  prompted 


1 8       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

so  resolute  a  man  as  Cartier  to  thus  abandon  the 
New  World  is  not  known.  Roberval  ordered 
him  to  return,  but  under  cover  of  night  Cartier 
slipped  away  and  continued  his  voyage  to  France. 

Roberval  had  a  mixed  company  of  nobles, 
soldiers,  sailors  and  adventurers,  and  a  number 
of  women  and  children.  Among  the  women  was 
a  very  comely  maiden  named  Marguerite,  a 
niece  of  Roberval  himself.  The  same  ship  in 
which  she  sailed  carried  a  young  gentleman  who 
had  embarked  for  love  of  her,  and  she  loved  him. 
This  was  not  to  Roberval's  liking.  He  demanded 
that  they  should  renounce  each  other,  but  the 
lovers  defied  him,  and  in  his  rage  he  anchored 
off  the  Isle  of  Demons,  landed  Marguerite  with 
an  old  Norman  nurse  who  had  taken  the  lovers' 
part,  gave  them  four  arquebuses  for  their  defence 
and  left  them  to  their  fate.  Roberval  thought 
he  had  effectually  separated  the  maiden  and  her 
betrothed  but  the  young  man  threw  himself  into 
the  sea,  and  by  desperate  effort  gained  the  shore. 

The  ship  sailed  on  its  way,  and,  during  the 
long  months  that  followed,  the  three  dwellers 
on  the  island  contrived  to  subsist  on  beasts  and 
birds  shot  with  the  arquebuses.  In  the  course 
of  a  year  a  child  was  born  to  Marguerite,  the 
first  child  born  of  European  parentage  in  all  the 


The  Earliest  Explorers  19 

vast  domain  now  known  as  British  North  Amer- 
ica. Soon  afterward  the  father  of  the  babe  died, 
and  the  two  women  laid  him  to  rest  as  best  they 
could.  A  few  months  later  the  child  died  also, 
and  its  little  body  was  buried  beside  that  of  its 
father.  The  old  nurse  did  not  survive  much 
longer,  and  then  Marguerite  was  left  alone. 
Sometimes  the  white  bears  prowled  around  her 
dwelling,  and  she  shot  three.  Sometimes  the 
demons  assailed  her,  but  she  discharged  her 
guns  at  them  and  they  retired  with  shrieks  and 
threats.  Two  years  and  five  months  after  she 
landed  on  the  island,  she  saw  a  small  fishing- 
craft  far  out  at  sea  and  hastily  made  a  fire  to 
attract  its  attention.  The  crew  presently  ob- 
served the  column  of  smoke  curling  upward  from 
the  haunted  shore,  and  they  warily  drew  near, 
until  they  descried  a  woman  in  wild  attire  waving 
signals  to  them.  So  they  took  Marguerite  from 
the  island,  and  she  went  with  them  back  to 
France. 

Her  uncle  had  gone  on  up  the  St.  Lawrence  and 
started  a  settlement  in  the  wilderness  at  Cap 
Rouge.  On  the  height  where  Cartier  had  in- 
trenched himself  Roberval  erected  a  castle-like 
structure  with  two  spacious  halls,  a  kitchen, 
chambers,  storerooms,  workshops,  cellars,  a  well. 


20       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

an  oven  and  two  water-mills.  Here  all  the  colony 
dwelt  under  the  same  roof.  At  length  two  of 
the  ships  sailed  for  home,  and  winter  came  on. 
Then  the  colony  found  that  though  they  had 
storehouses  there  were  no  stores;  they  had  mills, 
but  no  grist;  an  ample  oven,  yet  lacked  bread. 
They  bought  fish  of  the  Indians,  and  dug  roots 
which  they  boiled  in  whale-oil.  Disease  broke 
out,  and  before  spring  a  third  of  the  settlers  had 
died.  Roberval  ruled  his  followers  with  a  rod 
of  iron.  The  quarrels  of  the  men  and  the  scold- 
ing of  the  women  were  alike  punished  at  the 
whipping-post,  "by  which  means  they  lived  in 
peace."  An  attempt  to  explore  the  upper  river 
resulted  in  the  loss  of  eight  men,  and  the  whole 
experience  of  the  colony  was  so  dismal  that  the 
remnants  presently  returned  to  their  native  land. 
Of  the  final  fate  of  Roberval  there  are  con- 
flicting accounts.  The  most  interesting  one  is  to 
the  effect  that  he  made  another  voyage  to  the 
New  World  and  went  up  the  Saguenay;  and  it 
is  affirmed  by  the  natives  that  he  and  his  follow- 
ers have  never  returned  but  are  still  wandering 
somewhere  in  the  interior. 


II 


THE   THOUSAND    ISLANDS 

ON  THE  Canadian  side  of  the  river,  where 
the  St.  Lawrence  leaves  Lake  Ontario  and 
begins  to  thread  its  way  among  the  intricacies  of 
the  Thousand  Islands,  stands  the  historic  city 
of  Kingston.  Here  was  established  a  wilderness 
outpost  in  the  days  of  the  early  French  dominion. 
Count  Frontenac,  then  Governor  of  New  France, 
selected  the  site  in  1673  and  erected  a  strong 
wooden  blockhouse  to  protect  the  fur  trade  be- 
tween Montreal  and  the  northwestern  wilds. 
Accompanied  by  about  four  hundred  men,  in- 
cluding a  considerable  proportion  of  mission 
Indians,  he  came  himself  from  Quebec  to  see  the 
work  done.  The  journey  was  made  in  a  hundred 
and  twenty  canoes  and  two  large  flat-boats. 
These  flat-boats  were  painted  with  strange  de- 
vices in  red  and  blue  that  the  Iroquois  who  hadi 
been  invited  to  a  council  might  be  dazzled  by  the 
unwonted  display  of  splendor. 

The  council  met  where  the  city  now  is,  and 
there  was  speech-making  and  much  flattery  and 


22       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

many  fine  promises.  Frontenac  gave  presents  of 
guns  and  tobacco  to  the  braves,  and  raisins  to 
the  women  and  children;  and  in  the  evenings 
he  feasted  the  squawks  to  make  them  dance. 

Meanwhile  Frontenac's  followers  had  begun 
the  fort.  Some  cut  down  trees,  some  dug  the 
trenches,  some  hewed  the  palisades;  and  the 
Iroquois  were  greatly  astonished  at  the  orderli- 
ness and  alacrity  with  which  the  work  proceeded. 
When  Fort  Frontenac,  as  it  was  called,  had  been 
completed,  a  guard  was  left  in  the  lonely  outpost 
provisioned  for  a  twelve-month,  and  the  rest  of 
the  expedition  departed  down  the  river. 

The  next  year,  by  act  of  the  King  of  France, 
Fort  Frontenac  and  its  vicinity  was  turned  over 
to  La  Salle,  the  future  explorer  of  the  Mississippi, 
on  condition  that  he  pay  back  ten  thousand 
francs  the  fort  had  cost  the  king,  maintain  the 
stronghold  at  his  own  charge,  form  a  French 
colony  about  it,  build  a  church  whenever  the 
inhabitants  should  reach  one  hundred,  and  form 
a  settlement  of  domesticated  Indians  in  the 
neighborhood. 

'  La  Salle  promptly  accepted  the  responsibility, 
began  his  tasks,  and  was  in  a  fair  way  to  make 
his  fortune,  so  favorable  was  the  situation  for 
the  fur  trade.    He  was  master  of  all  around  him, 


The  Thousand  Islands  23 

the  nearest  settlement  being  a  week's  journey 
distant.  Within  two  years  he  demolished  the 
original  fort  and  replaced  it  with  another  that 
had  ramparts  and  bastions  of  stone  on  the  land 
side,  and  palisades  fronting  the  water.  Nine 
small  cannon  were  mounted  on  the  walls.  It 
contained  barracks,  a  forge,  a  well,  a  mill  and  a 
bakery.  About  fifteen  persons  constituted  the 
garrison,  and  there  were  in  addition  two  or 
three  score  laborers  and  canoe-men,  the  latter 
reputed  to  be  the  best  in  America.  Along  the 
shore  south  of  the  fort  was  a  small  hamlet  of 
French  farms,  and  farther  on,  a  village  of  Iro- 
quois whom  La  Salle  had  persuaded  to  settle 
here.  Considerable  land  had  been  cleared  and 
planted,  cattle,  swine  and  fowls  had  been  brought 
up  from  Montreal,  and  three  small  vessels  had 
been  built  to  ply  on  the  lake  in  the  interest  of  the 
fur  trade. 

But  the  autocrat  of  this  little  empire  was  not 
content.  He  would  explore  the  great  valley  of 
the  Mississippi  and  add  it  to  the  French  domain 
in  the  New  World.  So  late  in  the  year  1678  he 
left  all  prospects  of  wealth  and  comfort  and 
began  the  long  journey  that  was  to  end  only 
with  his  death  in  the  wilds  of  Texas. 


24       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

The  years  passed  without  any  events  of  serious 
significance  occurring  at  Fort  Frontenac  until 
1687.  There  had  been,  however,  a  good  deal  of 
trouble  with  the  Iroquois,  and  the  French  became 
suspicious  of  the  inhabitants  of  two  Indian 
villages  on  the  north  shore  of  Lake  Ontario. 
These  Indians  had  maintained  a  strict  neutrality 
and  were  in  the  habit  of  hunting  and  fishing  for 
the  Frontenac  garrison.  But  now  the  French 
invited  them  to  the  fort  for  a  feast,  and  they 
came  to  the  number  of  thirty  men  and  about 
ninety  women  and  children.  All  were  seized, 
and  a  raiding  party  from  the  fort  secured  nearly 
as  many  more.  The  warriors  were  tied  to  a 
row  of  posts  inside  of  the  fort,  and  one  witness 
declared  that  they  were  fastened  by  the  neck, 
hands  and  feet  in  such  a  way  that  they  could 
neither  sleep  nor  drive  off  the  mosquitoes.  To 
make  matters  worse,  some  of  the  Christian  Indi- 
ans from  down  the  river  amused  themselves 
by  burning  the  fingers  of  the  unfortunates  in 
the  bowls  of  their  pipes.  Most  of  them  were 
eventually  sent  to  France  to  share  with  convicts 
and  heretics  the  horrible  slavery  of  the  royal 
galleys.  As  for  the  women  and  children,  many 
died  at  the  fort,  and  the  rest  were  baptized  and 
distributed  among  the  mission  villages. 


The  Thousand  Islands  25 

The  following  year  the  Iroquois  and  their 
allies  the  English,  threatened  reprisal,  and  an 
urgent  entreaty  was  dispatched  to  the  French 
king  begging  him  to  send  back  the  prisoners 
who  had  gone  to  the  galleys.  The  letter  was 
written  by  the  governor,  and  it  contained  these 
words:  "If  ill-treatment  has  caused  them  all  to 
die — for  they  are  people  who  easily  fall  into 
dejection,  and  who  die  of  it — and  if  none  of  them 
come  back,  I  do  not  know  whether  we  can  per- 
suade these  barbarians  not  to  attack  us." 

Thirteen  of  the  captives  were  finally  sent  back 
from  France  gorgeously  clad,  and  returned  to 
their  people.  But  before  they  arrived  affairs  in 
the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence  had  become  so 
critical  that  orders  were  sent  to  have  the  com- 
mandant of  Fort  Frontenac  destroy  and  desert 
the  stronghold.  The  garrison  presently  reached 
Montreal  where  they  reported  that  they  had 
set  fire  to  everything  in  the  fort  that  would  burn, 
sunk  three  vessels  belonging  to  it  in  the  lake, 
mined  the  walls,  and  left  matches  burning  in  the 
powder  magazine.  After  they  had  started  on 
their  journey  they  heard  the  explosion.  But  it 
was  learned  later  that  the  destruction  was  far 
from  complete,  and  a  large  quantity  of  stores 
and  munitions  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Iroquois. 


26       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

The  fort  remained  a  ruin  for  seven  years,  and 
then  it  was  repaired  and  once  more  garrisoned. 
It  did  not  suffer  again  in  the  hazards  of  war 
until  1758  when  it  capitulated  to  an  English  ex- 
pedition from  Oswego.  The  victors  carried  off 
as  much  plunder  as  they  could,  and  burned  the 
rest  or  gave  it  to  their  Indian  allies.  Besides 
battering  the  fort  to  pieces  they  destroyed  the 
surrounding  buildings  and  the  shipping  and  left 
only  desolation  behind. 

Such  is  the  early  story  of  Kingston,  the  most 
important  town  on  the  St.  Lawrence  above 
Montreal.  The  city  of  today  is  a  place  of  some 
fifteen  thousand  inhabitants.  Its  military  col- 
lege, its  massive  forts  and  its  martello  towers 
make  it  "the  West  Point  of  Canada."  In  the 
town  itself  is  Fort  Frontenac  near  the  waterside, 
and  on  a  height  of  a  neighboring  island  that  is 
connected  with  the  city  by  a  quaint  wooden  toll- 
bridge,  is  Fort  Henry.  Both  forts  are  of  gray, 
weather-stained  stone  which  gives  them  an  ap- 
pearance of  great  age.  One  of  the  martello 
tow^ers  is  right  in  the  harbor.  The  typical  tower 
of  this  type  is  a  circular  structure  of  masonry 
erected  to  repel  the  approach  of  an  enemy  by 
water,  and  has  on  the  summit  a  gun  mounted 
on  a  revolving  platform  so  it  can  be  fired  in  any 


The  Thousand  Islands  27 

direction.  The  Kingston  towers  were  originally 
capable  of  doing  very  effective  work  in  repelling 
marauding  Yankees,  and  they  still  look  grim  and 
menacing  and  ready  to  deal  out  dire  destruction, 
but  in  modern  warfare  they  probably  have  little 
value. 

As  seen  from  the  harbor  Kingston  presents  a 
particularly  attractive  appearance  with  its  spires 
and  domes  rising  from  amid  the  green  foliage, 
and  the  steamships  and  slender-masted  sailing 
vessels  and  numerous  minor  craft  along  its  water- 
front. The  place  is  very  compact,  and  it  is 
astonishing  on  a  pleasant  evening  to  see  how 
full  the  chief  street  is  of  people.  Most  of  the 
stores  are  closed,  but  the  younger  portion  of  the 
inhabitants  seems  to  be  out,  nevertheless.  The 
saloons  and  tobacco  shops  are  busy,  and  the 
moving  picture  "theatoriums"  are  generously 
patronized;  yet  in  the  main  the  populace  is  just 
strolling.  I  imagined  that  many  of  them  might 
resort  to  the  public  library,  but  this  institution 
is  merely  a  large  dismal  room  over  a  store  where 
I  found  only  a  scant  dozen  readers.  The  books 
were  caged  off  in  an  alcove,  and  the  battered  old 
reading  tables  and  tattered  magazines  were  far 
from  being  cheerfully  attractive.     An  American 


28       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

town  of  the  same  size  would  have  a  fine  building 
and   an  extensive  collection  of  books. 

Perhaps  the  feature  of  Kingston  that  I  en- 
joyed most  was  a  park  deeply  shadowed  with 
trees,  and  open  on  one  side  to  Lake  Ontario. 
It  was  delightful  to  linger  there  by  the  shore  on 
a  sunny  afternoon,  cooled  by  the  breeze,  watch- 
ing the  limpid  waves  beat  on  the  low  rocky 
beach.  The  water  was  wonderfully  clear,  and 
it  enters  the  St.  Lawrence  as  pure  as  a  mountain 
spring. 

To  the  south  were  the  first  of  the  Thousand 
Islands.  These  islands,  which,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  number  1692,  extend  from  Lake  Ontario 
to  Prescott,  fifty  miles  below.  Some  authorities 
say  they  begin  with  a  group  west  of  Kingston 
known  as  the  Three  Brothers,  and  end  at  Brock- 
ville  with  the  Three  Sisters.  But  there  are  other 
islands  which  dispute  the  claims  of  these.  Some 
people  disregard  the  Three  Brothers  entirely  be- 
cause they  are  several  miles  out  in  the  lake,  and 
declare  that  the  rightful  leader  of  the  procession 
is  Whiskey  Island,  overlooked  by  the  grim  strong- 
hold of  Fort  Henry. 

You  could  heave  a  stone  from  one  end  of 
Whiskey  Island  to  the  other;  yet  there  are  some 
isles  in  the  archipelago  so  much  smaller  than  this 


The  Thousand  Islands  29 

as  to  be  mere  dimples  on  the  surface  of  the  broad 
river  and  supporting  not  the  least  verdure  on 
their  barren  rocks.  Other  islands  are  large, 
fertile  areas  crowned  with  lofty  trees  and  con- 
taining hundreds  of  acres  of  well-cultivated 
farms.  Occasionally  a  single  farmer  owns  an 
entire  island  of  a  suitable  size  to  support  him 
and  keep  him  busy.  One  such  owner  with  whom 
I  talked  thought  this  quite  an  ideal  arrangement. 
He  had  no  line  fences  to  maintain,  and  if  he 
exterminated  the  weeds  he  knew  they  would  not 
come  in  again  by  someone  else's  neglect.  Boats 
furnish  easy  means  of  travel  from  the  islands  to 
the  mainland  in  the  warm  months,  and  in  winter 
the  channels  are  thickly  sheeted  with  ice,  on 
which  the  islanders  journey  freely  back  and 
forth. 

The  steamers  that  make  the  down-river  trips 
through  the  islands  leave  Kingston  at  a  very 
early  hour,  and  on  the  autumn  day  that  I  went 
over  the  route  the  morn  was  still  dusky  and 
starlit  when  I  went  on  board.  But  soon  after  we 
started  the  sun  came  up  in  the  red  eastern  haze, 
and  sent  its  warm  level  beams  over  the  broad 
expanse  of  the  river.  We  continued  among  the 
islands  for  four  or  five  hours,  yet  much  of  the 
time  so  large  were  they  that  it  seemed  as  if  we 


30       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

were  sailing  down  a  stream  v/ith  mainland  on 
either  side.  At  other  times  we  were  amid  clusters 
of  the  lesser  islands,  many  of  which  are  owned 
by  wealthy  people  who  have  built  fine  residences 
on  them  and  laid  out  tasteful  grounds.  These 
summer  homes  represent  all  kinds  of  domiciles 
from  the  modest  cottage  of  the  camper  to  the 
imposing  castle  of  the  millionaire.  Occasionally 
a  little  bridge  connected  islets,  and  the  waterside 
was  buttressed  with  a  stout  stone  wall  that  fol- 
lowed in  a  sinuous  line  the  natural  contour  of 
the  shore.  The  turf  and  the  trees  too,  were 
groomed  into  a  park-like  aspect,  and  it  was  all 
very  pretty  and  pleasant.  But  I  preferred  those 
islands  that  were  still  in  a  wild  state  of  nature, 
with  bristling  firs  and  pines  crowning  their 
rugged  rocks.  As  a  whole  they  are  mild  and 
low-lying  and  make  no  very  striking  appeal  to 
the  sense  of  sight,  though  admirers  declare  them 
to  be  the  most  picturesque  archipelago  in  the 
world.  Their  chief  attraction  consists  in  the 
constant  changes  of  scene,  daintiness  of  form, 
and  the  turning  and  intersecting  of  the  trans- 
parent waterways  gliding  placidly  between. 
That  they  should  be  healthful  and  have  charm 
for  a  summer  resort  with  that  cool  flow  of  crys- 
talline water  always  about  them  is  no  wonder. 


The  Thousand  Islands  31 

The  river  in  this  vicinity  is  remarkably 
equable,  never  in  flood  and  never  much  affected 
by  droughts.  Seven  feet  is  its  greatest  variation 
betw^een  a  time  of  unusual  rainfall,  and  a  season 
that  is  extremely  dry.  But  the  level  of  the 
stream  is  also  influenced  by  strong  prevailing 
winds  blowing  up  or  down  the  lake;  and  as  a 
result  there  have  been  instances  of  rapid  fall, 
followed  by  a  returning  wave  of  extraordinary 
height. 

What  the  Indians  thought  of  the  islands  can 
be  judged  from  the  fact  that  they  called  them 
"The  Garden  of  the  Great  Spirit."  The  prime- 
val forest  of  the  region  abounded  with  deer  and 
other  game,  the  waters  teemed  with  fish,  and  its 
little  bays  and  islets  were  the  haunts  of  numerous 
waterfowl — could  anything  be  more  delectable 
to  the  red  hunter  than  such  a  land  of  plenty  ? 

Another  poetic  fancy  with  regard  to  the  islands 
refers  us  back  to  the  time  when  Adam  and  Eve 
were  driven  from  the  Garden  of  Eden.  We  are 
told  that  Eden  itself  was  borne  away  by  the 
white-winged  angels  to  the  eternal  spheres  on 
high;  but  in  passing  through  space  there  flut- 
tered down  to  earth  some  flowers  from  the 
divine  garden.  Most  of  them  fell  into  the  broad 
outlet  of  Lake  Ontario  and  there  became  the 


32       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Thousand  Islands — the  paradise  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence. 

For  unnumbered  years  this  immediate  neigh- 
borhood was  the  border-range  of  two  of  the  most 
powerful  Indian  clans  that  inhabited  the  ancient 
American  wilderness.  North  and  east  roamed 
the  haughty  Algonquins,  noted  as  the  greatest 
hunters  of  the  land,  while  in  the  valleys  to  the 
south  dwelt  the  Iroquois,  who  lived  by  fishing  and 
cultivating  the  soil  and  who  boasted  of  great 
fields  of  maize  and  extensive  apple  orchards. 
For  many  a  changing  season  these  people  of  the 
wilds  dwelt  side  by  side  in  harmony.  It  was 
one  of  the  friendly  customs  of  the  young  men 
of  the  two  tribes  to  meet  at  certain  times  to  hunt 
and  fish  together,  with  the  understanding  that 
whichever  party  killed  the  lesser  amount  of 
game  animals,  or  speared  the  fewer  fish,  should 
dress  all  the  spoils  of  the  chase  that  were  brought 
in.  Usually  the  Iroquois  were  the  unfortunate 
ones,  and  it  at  length  became  regarded  as  a 
certainty  that  they  would  do  the  "squaw"  work 
and  that  their  rivals  would  enjoy  running  the 
game  to  earth  with  no  aftermath  of  disagreeable 
labor.  This  disinclined  the  Iroquois  to  the 
sport  and  it  was  gradually  being  abandoned 
when,  on  one  of  the  now  rare  occasions  that  the 


^ 


^?. 


^K, 


V. 


The  Thousand  Islands  33 

rivals  engaged  in  a  hunt,  the  Algonquins  were 
astonishingly  unsuccessful.  For  three  days  they 
followed  their  quest  in  vain,  but  the  Iroquois 
came  from  their  forest  rovings  with  game  in 
abundance.  The  Algonquins  went  sullenly 
about  the  unwelcome  task  of  dressing  the  game, 
and  so  sorely  did  they  feel  their  disgrace  that 
they  vowed  among  themselves  to  have  revenge. 
Night  came  and  while  the  weary  Iroquois 
hunters  slept,  a  sudden  assault  was  made  and 
every  one  of  them  slain. 

The  assassins  denied  their  deed,  and  not  till 
long  after  did  the  friends  of  the  dead  learn  the 
facts.  Then  they  asked  that  justice  should  be 
done  the  slayers.  The  Algonquins  were  called 
to  a  council  but  they  evaded  the  matter  of  a 
settlement,  and  tried  to  satisfy  the  complainants 
with  honeyed  words.  This,  however,  availed 
nothing.  The  Iroquois,  fiercely  indignant, 
swore  they  would  not  rest,  they  nor  their  children 
to  the  last  generation,  until  the  Algonquins  had 
been  swept  from  the  earth.  Thus  began  the 
terrible  feud  which  existed  between  the  two 
savage  races  at  the  coming  of  the  white  men, 
and  which  continued  to  rage,  drawing  into  its 
toils  the  French  and  the  English  and  resulting 
in  long  dark  years  of  border  warfare. 


34       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

A  favorite  rendezvous  of  the  Indians  was 
Carleton  Island,  one  of  the  first  good-sized  is- 
lands on  the  American  side  of  the  river.  Here 
many  a  council  of  w^ar  v^^as  held  and  many  a 
bloody  raid  was  devised.  This  same  island, 
during  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  was  a  famous 
place  of  refuge  for  the  tories  of  the  Middle 
Colonies. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  story  of  the 
Thousand  Islands  is  that  of  the  Lost  Channel. 
It  dates  back  to  the  time  of  the  French  and 
Indian  War.  An  English  naval  and  military 
expedition  had  started  from  Oswego  against 
Montreal.  The  naval  portion  consisted  of  two 
armed  vessels,  the  Mohawk  and  the  Onondaga, 
and  a  number  of  boats.  Soon  after  this  flotilla 
had  entered  the  St.  Lawrence  the  lookout  on  the 
Onondaga  discovered  a  party  of  French  soldiers 
in  a  bateau  putting  out  from  Carleton  Island. 
The  vessel  promptly  started  in  pursuit,  at  the 
same  time  signalling  the  Mohawk  to  follow.  A 
lively  race  of  several  miles  ensued,  and  then  the 
French  boat  disappeared  down  a  narrow  water- 
way between  a  large  island  and  a  group  of 
smaller  islands. 

The  Onondaga  continued  to  follow  until  a 
startling  discharge  of  musketry  from  the  wooded 


The  Thousand  Islands  35 

banks  of  the  islands  roundabout  showed  that  it 
had  sailed  into  a  trap.  The  decks  of  the  war- 
ship were  swept  by  the  leaden  hail  of  the  con- 
cealed foe,  yet  the  English  returned  this  fire  so 
fast  and  furiously  that  the  enemy  was  glad  to 
retire.  It  was  now  necessary  to  find  the  way 
back  to  the  main  channel  and  to  send  word  to 
the  sister  ship,  which  had  not  been  seen  for  some 
time,  to  return  also.  For  this  latter  duty  a  boat 
was  dispatched  under  the  command  of  Cox- 
swain Terry,  who  delivered  the  order  successfully. 
Then  he  and  his  crew  left  the  Mohawk  and 
started  to  row  to  their  own  vessel. 

The  Onondaga  got  back  to  the  main  channel 
and  was  at  length  rejoined  by  the  Mohawk,  but 
the  coxswain's  boat  failed  to  appear.  After  an 
anxious  period  of  waiting  several  parties  were 
sent  out  to  find  the  missing  men.  Their  search, 
however,  was  unavailing,  and  when  hope  had 
to  be  abandoned  the  expedition  went  on  its  way. 
Nothing  was  ever  learned  of  the  fate  of  Terry 
and  his  crew.  Probably  they  became  bewildered 
among  the  maze  of  waterways  and  at  last  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  All  we  actually 
know  is  that  the  passage  his  boat  entered  after 
leaving  the  Mohawk  has  since  been  known  as 
"The  Lost  Channel." 


36       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Another  narrative  that  adds  much  to  the 
charm  of  the  Thousand  Islands  is  concerned 
with  the  early  years  of  the  second  quarter  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  The  belief  was  at  that  time 
widely  accepted  both  in  Canada  and  the  United 
States  that  the  former  country  was  being  inflicted 
with  the  same  abuses  by  the  English  government 
that  had  caused  the  thirteen  American  colonies 
to  fight  for  their  independence.  A  body  of 
Canadian  rebels  established  headquarters  on 
Navy  Island  in  the  Niagara  River,  a  short  dis- 
tance above  the  falls,  and  from  there  pretended 
to  rule  Canada.  A  little  sidewheel  steamer,  the 
Caroline,  went  back  and  forth  between  the 
island  and  Buffalo  carrying  provisions  to  the 
rebels.  But  one  dark  winter  night  a  company  of 
the  "Men  of  Gore"  as  the  government  troops 
guarding  the  Canadian  shore  called  themselves, 
rowed  across  the  swift  and  dangerous  current, 
seized  the  Caroline  as  she  lay  at  her  wharf,  put 
the  crew  ashore,  set  the  steamer  on  fire  and  sent 
her  all  ablaze  over  Niagara  Falls.  As  a  conse- 
quence, the  Navy  Island  rebels  were  starved  out. 

This  act  roused  the  ire  of  an  American  who 
was  familiarly  called  "Bill"  Johnson,  and  who 
now  became  a  sort  of  political  Robin  Hood 
intent  to  confer  on  Canada  the  boon  of  freedom. 


The  historic  lighthouse  at  Prescott 


The  Thousand  Islands  37 

He  got  together  a  band  of  outlaws,  or  patriots, 
if  one  accepts  their  view,  and  on  the  night  of 
May  30,  1838,  he  and  his  followers,  disguised  as 
Indians  and  armed  with  muskets,  boarded  the 
Canadian  steamer.  Sir  Robert  Peel,  while  en 
route  from  Brockville  to  Toronto  carrying 
twenty  passengers  and  a  large  amount  of  money 
to  pay  off  the  troops  in  the  Upper  Province. 
With  shouts  of  "Remember  the  Caroline!"  the 
"patriot"  band  forced  the  passengers  and  crew 
to  take  to  the  boats.  Then  the  steamer  was  set 
on  fire  and  left  to  her  fate.  The  hull  is  still  to 
be  seen  where  it  sank  about  a  mile  down  the 
river  from  Thousand  Island  Park. 

Johnson,  elated  with  his  success,  made  a  per- 
sonal declaration  of  war;  but  fortune  favored 
him  with  no  further  conquests,  and  this  "Pirate 
of  the  Thousand  Islands"  soon  became  a  fugi- 
tive from  justice.  His  daring  and  devoted 
daughter  Kate  rowed  him  from  hiding-place  to 
hiding-place,  and  kept  him  supplied  with  food. 
Kate  at  length  succeeded  in  securing  his  pardon, 
and  he  became  a  lighthouse  keeper.  She  herself 
married  happily  and  was  much  loved  and  re- 
spected for  her  devotion  to  her  father  in  the 
gloomy  days  of  his  outlawry.  A  secluded  isle 
known  as  "The  Devil's  Oven"  on  which  he  was 


38       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

concealed  for  over  a  year  belongs  to  one  of  her 
descendants. 

In  a  literary  way  the  Thousand  Islands  are 
closely  linked  with  what  is  considered  by  many 
to  be  Cooper's  finest  story — "The  Pathfinder." 
The  culminating  scenes  of  the  book  are  located 
on  "Station  Island."  No  island  of  that  name  is 
to  be  found  on  the  maps,  and  the  author  prob- 
ably did  not  have  any  particular  island  in  mind, 
but  there  seems  reasonable  warrant  for  conclud- 
ing it  must  have  been  one  of  those  on  the  Canadi- 
an side  above  Ganonoque. 

As  we  move  on  down  the  river  we  at  length 
reach  Brockville.  Near  the  east  end  of  the  town 
a  bluff  rises  from  the  water's  edge  to  a  height  of 
about  fifty  feet.  This  ledge  with  its  overhanging 
shelves  and  clinging  vines  and  many  little  caves 
is  commonly  spoken  of  as  "High  Rocks."  At 
a  point  where  the  face  of  the  cliff  is  compara- 
tively smooth  tracings  of  a  painting  could  be 
seen  until  within  a  few  years.  Formerly  the 
spot  was  visited  every  spring  by  a  band  of 
Indians,  who  with  weird  ceremonies  and  in- 
cantations brightened  the  picture  with  fresh 
paint  and  departed.  The  picture  was  a  rough 
representation  of  two  white  men  apparently 
falling   out    of  a    canoe    propelled    by   several 


The  Thousand  Islands  39 

Indians.  This  commemorated  the  following 
episode: 

Two  captured  English  officers  were  being  con- 
veyed by  the  Indians  down  the  river  to  Montreal. 
As  they  approached  Brockville  a  terrific  storm 
arose  and  the  boat  being  heavily  loaded  the 
Indians  threw  the  prisoners  overboard  to 
lighten  the  canoe  and  at  the  same  time  appease 
the  storm-god  by  a  human  sacrifice.  But  the 
storm-god  refused  to  be  placated.  The  gale 
increased  in  violence,  and  the  Indians,  feeling 
that  they  were  doomed,  mingled  the  wail  of 
their  death  song  with  the  howling  of  the  hurri- 
cane. When  opposite  High  Rocks  the  canoe 
went  down  with  all  its  human  freight,  which 
included  a  distinguished  chief  For  more  than 
a  hundred  years  afterward  members  of  the  tribe 
visited  the  rock  to  renew  the  picture,  and  to 
attempt  by  their  incantations  to  win  back  the 
favor  of  the  Great  Spirit,  who  was  angry  because 
the  two  officers  had  been  drowned  instead  of 
being  saved  to  burn  at  the  stake. 

As  a  whole,  Brockville's  experience  has  been 
peaceful,  but  one  winter  day,  in  the  War  of  18 12, 
the  Americans  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence  on  the 
ice  and  raided  the  town,  robbing  houses  and 
carrying  off  as  prisoners  many  of  the  villagers. 


40       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

In  retaliation  the  Canadians  attacked  the  forti- 
fied American  town  of  Ogdensburg  a  little 
farther  down  the  river.  They  surprised  the 
garrison,  took  seventy-five  prisoners  and  burned 
the  barracks  and  four  war  vessels. 

But  now  our  steamer  passes  the  row  of  little 
low-lying  islets  known  as  the  Three  Sisters  that 
breast  the  current  just  below  Brockville,  and  the 
Thousand  Islands  lie  behind  us,  while  the  rapids 
are  not  far  ahead. 


Ill 

THE    RAPIDS 

^  I  ^HE  lake  steamers  continue  down  the  river 
-■-  as  far  as  Prescott.  They  cannot  go  farther 
because  they  are  too  large  to  run  the  rapids, 
which,  beyond  this  point,  occur  at  intervals  all 
the  way  to  Montreal.  A  transfer  is  therefore 
made  to  the  river  steamers.  But  Prescott  itself 
is  not  without  attractions  that  invite  the  traveller 
to  loiter.  On  a  slight  elevation,  a  little  back 
from  the  river  is  a  stout,  stone-walled  blockhouse. 
This  is  surrounded  by  a  high  earthwork  which 
hides  all  but  the  roof,  and  as  the  base  of  the 
earthwork  is  skirted  with  palisades  the  visitor 
who  wishes  to  make  a  closer  inspection  of  the 
fortification  must  seek  the  entrance. 

I  stopped  to  chat  with  a  woman  who  lived 
near  by.  The  day  was  warm,  and  she  was  sitting 
on  her  piazza  enjoying  the  comfort  of  a  breeze 
and  occasionally  chatting  with  chance  acquaint- 
ances who  paused  in  passing  along  the  broad 
walk  in  front.  When  I  asked  about  the  block- 
house she  said: 


42       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

"Do  you  see  that  old  lady  going  up  the  road 
with  her  cow  ?  She  could  tell  you  all  about  it. 
Her  husband  soldiered  it  in  England  as  a  young 
man,  and  after  he  came  here  he  had  charge  of 
the  blockhouse  for  forty  years.  One  night  he 
died.  He'd  gone  to  bed  feeling  fine,  and  there  he 
was  in  the  morning  dead  with  his  eyes  and  mouth 
tight  shut,  layin'  on  his  left  side,  perfectly 
peaceful.  It's  a  nice  job  being  keeper  of  that 
fort.  The  pay  is  liberal,  the  family  lives  in  the 
blockhouse  without  its  costing  'em  anything  for 
rent,  and  there's  free  pasturage  for  their  cows. 
Oh,  they've  got  a  good  chance  and  don't  have 
to  do  a  tap  of  work. 

"Did  you  notice  that  man  who  just  went  by? 
He's  an  Indian.  There's  a  couple  of  Indian 
families  have  moved  here  lately.  They  live  in 
old  shabby  houses,  but  my  lands!  they're  stylish 
as  any  white  people.  I  was  tellin'  Jim,  my 
husband,  about  the  way  they  dress;  and  he  says 
they're  very  civil  and  well-educated.  One  of 
the  squaws  went  to  school  in  an  Ottawa  convent." 

In  the  dreamy  distance  across  the  river  I  could 
see  the  wide-spreading  city  of  Ogdensburg.  My 
companion  seemed  a  little  envious  of  this  flour- 
ishing American  city,  and  she  complained  that 
Prescott  was  not  a  bit  larger  than  it  was  twenty- 


The  Rapids  43 

five  years  ago,  and  that  enterprises  started  in 
the  town  to  help  its  growth  had  usually  proved 
failures.  Yet,  why  was  expansion  with  all  its 
chaos  so  desirable  ?  I  thought  Prescott  was 
very  snug  and  delightful,  and  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  improve  on  its  quiet  homes  and  tree- 
shadowed  streets.  A  radical  business  growth 
would  upset  this  serenity  and  destroy  much  of 
the  beauty,  and  the  place  would  be  gentle  and 
homelike  no  longer. 

There  had  been  a  fair  in  the  town  on  the  day 
of  my  visit,  and  in  the  evening,  wherever  peo- 
ple met,  they  were  discussing  its  various  feat- 
ures. An  accident  on  the  race  course,  though 
not  very  serious,  had  jarred  the  nerves  of  some 
so  that  their  enjoyment  of  the  occasion  was  a 
good  deal  dampened.  One  man  who  had  been 
to  so  many  fairs  as  to  make  his  opinion  that  of 
an  expert,  said  he  thought  the  best  thing  in  this 
year's  fair  was  some  trained  fleas  that  could  do 
tricks  and  draw  little  carts  around  on  a  sheet 
of  paper.  Another  critic  of  the  fair  was  a  small 
girl  who  told  how  she  had  spent  all  her  money 
on  "the  wild  man"  and  the  merry-go-round.  It 
cost  ten  cents  to  go  into  the  tent  to  see  the 
former — "and    he    wasn't    wild    at    all,"    she 


44       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

affirmed  sorrowfully.  "They  had  him  chained, 
but  he  was  only  just  a  nigger." 

On  the  merry-go-round  she  had  spent  thirty- 
five  cents  making  trip  after  trip  till  she  reached 
the  bottom  of  her  purse. 

"Why,  you  crazy  thing!"  commented  an 
older  companion,  "I  should  have  thought  once 
would  have  been  enough." 

A  mile  down  the  river  from  the  village  is  a 
lighthouse  that  is  an  historic  landmark  of  ex- 
ceptional interest.  It  stands  on  an  outjutting 
point  and  is  a  very  sturdy  and  thick-walled 
structure  which  originally  did  duty  as  a  wind- 
mill. In  that  earlier  period  of  its  existence  it 
figured  conspicuously  in  the  closing  scenes  of 
what  was  sometimes  called  "the  Patriot  War." 
The  Prescott  episode  was  the  result  of  a  foolish 
project  among  some  fanatics  of  northern  New 
York  to  overthrow  the  Canadian  government; 
but  the  war  itself  was  inspired  by  the  unrest  of 
the  people  of  the  Dominion  because  their  affairs 
were  to  a  very  large  degree  in  the  arbitrary 
control  of  the  British  ministry  in  London.  Their 
own  views  as  to  the  needs  of  the  country,  and 
their  protests  against  the  tyrannical  and  incon- 
siderate acts  of  the  public  officials  counted  for 
little,  and  at  length  some  of  the  more  radical  of 


The  Rapids  45 

the  "Reformers,"  as  they  styled  themselves, 
made  ready  to  fight. 

In  1837  hostilities  began  with  a  skirmish  near 
Toronto  in  which  the  militia  routed  the  rebels. 
Other  minor  actions  followed,  and  the  next 
year  a  brave  and  skilful  Polish  soldier,  Colonel 
Van  Schultz,  and  six  hundred  men  made  ready 
in  Ogdensburg  for  a  Canadian  invasion.  The 
men  were  partly  Dominion  "patriots,"  but  the 
majority  of  them  were  American  adventurers. 
Only  one  hundred  and  seventy  reached  the  north 
shore  of  the  river.  There  they  were  caught  in  a 
trap;  for  the  United  States  authorities  seized 
their  boats  and  they  could  not  return,  nor  could 
the  rest  of  the  six  hundred  come  to  their  aid. 
Soon  they  were  hotly  attacked  and  took  refuge 
in  the  big  stone  windmill  on  the  bluff  by  the 
riverside,  a  little  beyond  the  eastern  borders  of 
Prescott  village. 

There  they  held  out  for  three  days,  and  in  the 
fighting  thirty-six  of  the  attacking  force  were 
killed,  and  nineteen  of  the  besieged.  At  last 
cannon  arrived  from  Kingston,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  the  windmill's  walls  would  be  battered 
down  unless  the  invaders  surrendered.  So  they 
gave  up,  and  Van  Schultz  and  eleven  others  were 
brought  to  trial  and  hanged.    It  is  of  interest  to 


46       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

recall  that  in  his  will  Van  Schultz  left  ten  thous- 
and dollars  for  the  benefit  of  the  families  of 
those  of  his  followers  who  sacrificed  their  lives  in 
the  expedition. 

Soon  after  the  river  steamer  leaves  Prescott  it 
passes  through  the  Gallops  and  the  Rapids  du 
Plat.  These,  though  not  turbulent  enough  to 
afford  any  excitement,  give  a  foretaste  of  what 
is  to  follow,  and  are  a  welcome  change  from  the 
smooth  surface  and  steady  current  of  the  upper 
river.  But  the  Long  Sault  {sault  or  saut,  pro- 
nounced soo,  is  equivalent  to  rapids)  which 
comes  next  contains  the  heaviest  swells  on  the 
river.  The  rapids  here  extend  for  a  distance  of 
nine  miles  with  a  total  fall  of  about  fifty  feet. 
They  are  roughest  at  the  part  known  as  "the 
Cellar."  There,  and  wherever  else  the  treach- 
erous reefs  block  the  way,  are  found  madly 
dashing  waves  and  whirlpools  and  a  smother  of 
flying  spray. 

When  the  descent  in  the  steamer  begins  you 
can  see  on  ahead  the  seething  tumult  of  waters 
rushing  in  fierce  violence  down  the  declivity, 
apparently  without  termination.  The  vessel 
shoots  forward,  settles  downward  to  a  lower 
level,  rushes  ahead  again,  and  the  sinking  is 
repeated;    and  thus  the  boat  goes  on  through 


The  Rapids  47 

the  buffeting  surges  and  darkling  eddies  past 
jutting  headlands  and  threatening  boulders. 
Even  with  her  steam  almost  shut  off  she  has  a 
speed  of  twenty  miles  an  hour,  carried  along  by 
the  sheer  force  of  the  current,  and  navigation  of 
the  Long  Sault  requires  unusual  nerve  and  pre- 
cision in  piloting.  To  lessen  the  possibility  of 
a  mishap  the  rudder  is  provided  with  an  emer- 
gency tiller,  and  this  is  ready  for  instant  use  while 
shooting  the   rapids. 

The  first  large  boat  to  attempt  the  passage  of 
the  Long  Sault  was  the  Ontario  built  about  the 
year  1840  at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake  of  the 
same  name.  Her  speediness  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  some  Montreal  men  who  bought  her  for 
a  mail  boat  to  ply  between  that  city  and  Quebec. 
Then  they  grappled  with  the  problem  of  getting 
her  down  to  Montreal.  No  craft  of  anywhere 
near  that  size  had  ever  attempted  to  run  the  Long 
Sault;  but  they  secured  for  the  hazardous  under- 
taking, two  Indians  known  as  "Old  Jock"  and 
"Old  Pete,"  the  best  pilots  on  the  river.  The 
owners  promised  them  one  thousand  dollars 
each  if  they  accomplished  the  enterprise  success- 
fully. 

To  test  the  depth  of  the  water  a  crib  was  made 
forty  feet  square  with  cross  pieces  ten  feet  apart, 


48       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

and  having  stakes  ten  feet  long  projecting  at 
frequent  intervals  from  the  bottom.  Several 
Indians  towed  the  crib  out  into  the  stream  at 
the  head  of  the  rapids  and  let  it  go.  Meanwhile 
a  number  of  other  Indians  had  been  stationed 
in  trees  along  the  riverside  to  watch  the  crib's 
progress,  and  still  others  were  stationed  at  the 
foot  of  the  rapids  where  they  caught  the  crib 
when  it  reached  the  quiet  water.  The  crib  was 
turned  over  and  it  was  found  that  none  of  the 
stakes  were  broken.  So  it  was  plain  there  was 
water  enough  to  run  the  Ontario  through. 

The  Indians  who  had  been  in  the  trees  on  the 
bank  then  went  on  board  the  vessel  and  the 
voyage  began.  Each  piloted  it  in  turn  as  far  as 
he  had  observed  the  crib's  course.  The  only 
white  man  on  board  was  the  engineer,  and  he,  like 
Old  Jock  and  Old  Pete  was  generously  rewarded. 
Thus  was  made,  in  1843,  the  first  steamer  trip 
down  the  rapids,  and  a  descendant  of  one  of 
those  pioneer  pilots  now  guides  with  trusty  hand 
a  modern  boat  that  goes  over  the  same  course 
as  the  Ontario  went  then.  But  no  other  steamer 
attempted  the  shooting  of  the  rapids  for  fifteen 
years. 

I  stopped  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Long  Sault 
at  a   country  village   where   I  was  told  a  vari- 


Co 


Co 


The  Rapids  49 

ety  of  picturesque  anecdotes  concerning  the 
river. 

"The  other  day,"  said  the  landlord  of  my  hotel, 
"the  rudder  chain  of  the  steamer  broke  while 
she  was  right  in  the  midst  of  the  rapids,  and  the 
boat  went  careering  down  the  stream  in  a  way 
that  made  the  passengers'  hair  stand  on  end. 
You  know  she  goes  through  those  rapids  like  a 
bullet  shot  out  of  a  gun,  and  what  with  her  wild 
motions  and  her  speed  the  five  hundred  tourists 
on  board  were  just  about  scared  to  death.  They 
were  all  in  a  panic  running  around  and  not 
knowing  whether  to  jump  over,  or  take  the 
chances  of  getting  smashed  up  on  the  vessel. 
But  they  got  through  finally  without  being 
wrecked,  and  anchored  to  patch  up  things  before 
they  went  farther. 

"That  didn't  hold  a  candle  to  the  way  two 
fellows  from  this  village  ran  the  rapids  some 
years  ago.  James  Bullock,  the  hotel-keeper  here 
got  up  a  picnic,  and  he  thought  it  would  be  a  big 
advertisement  for  the  picnic  and  draw  a  crowd 
if  he  announced  that  a  sixteen  foot  skiff  with  a 
couple  of  men  in  it  would  go  down  the  rapids. 
He  would  be  one  of  the  men,  and  for  the  other 
he  got  John  McPhee — 'Indian  John'  people 
called  him,  though  he  wasn't  an  Indian  at  all. 


50       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

only  rather  dark  skinned.  The  crowd  come  all 
right,  and  gathered  on  a  hill  where  they  could  see 
the  whole  thing.  First  an  old  apple  tree  was  sent 
down  with  a  straw  man  tied  astraddle  of  it. 
That  was  to  give  an  idea  of  where  to  go  with  the 
boat. 

"Bullock  and  McPhee  expected  to  get  a  duck- 
ing, and  they  took  off  their  coats  and  vests  and 
boots  and  everything  except  their  trousers  and 
shirts.  One  man  rowed  and  the  other  sat  in  the 
stern  to  steer.  They  might  have  gone  through 
all  right;  but  Lord!  they  went  out  too  far. 
Besides,  I  guess  they'd  drank  a  glass  or  two 
more'n  was  good  for  'em.  They  got  a  blame 
good  scare  right  at  the  start.  At  the  very  head 
of  the  rapids  is  a  big  white  swell  that  is  never 
twice  alike.  That  old  breaker  works  cur'us,  and 
when  the  boat  struck  it  she  was  tossed  up  as 
high  as  a  house,  bottom  upward.  On  shore 
there  was  the  greatest  excitement  you  ever  saw, 
but  we  couldn't  do  anything.  The  boat  went  on 
like  a  race  horse.  Sometimes  the  men  were  on 
it  and  sometimes  off,  and  there  were  times  when 
they  were  swimming  twenty  feet  away. 

"By  and  by  they  got  to  the  whirlpool  and  the 
boat  canted  up  on  end  and  went  right  down 
out  of  sight.     That  was  where  they  lost  their 


The  Rapids  51 

grip.  But  there  happened  to  be  a  boat  with  a 
couple  of  men  in  it  near  the  shore  at  that  place 
and  they  grabbed  Bullock  and  McPhee  by  the 
hair  of  their  heads  as  they  were  drifting  around 
the  circuit  of  the  whirlpool  and  pulled  'em  out. 
They  were  helpless  and  pretty  near  drowned, 
but  by  rolling  'em  on  a  barrel  they  got  the  water 
out  of  'em  so  that  they  finally  revived." 

The  hotel  and  village  were  strikingly  quiet, 
and  I  wondered  at  the  absence  of  loafers  and 
drinkers.  The  landlord  explained  in  much  dis- 
gust that  the  place  had  voted  no  license.  "That 
isn't  the  fault  of  the  village,"  said  he,  "but  of 
the  farmers  out  in  the  country — Methodists  and 
such.  It  has  made  this  a  dead  town."  That  is, 
the  saloons  which  were  formerly  centers  of  noisy 
drunken  sociability  are  now  dull  places. 

"The  region  is  prosperous,"  said  my  landlord, 
"but  the  farmers  are  often  pretty  hard  up  for 
help.  They  used  to  depend  largely  on  their  own 
boys  to  do  the  work.  Of  late  years,  however, 
the  boys  all  have  to  be  educated  and  they  leave 
the  farm  as  soon  as  they  can.  The  only  boy 
who  stays  at  home  to  help  the  old  man  is  the 
numskull  who  can't  learn  anything." 

In  the  evening  we  had  a  little  thunderstorm — 
a  very  slight  affair  compared  with  some  that 


52       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

visit  the  vicinity.  It  reminded  the  landlord  of 
an  experience  a  few  years  previous.  "I'd  gone 
down  to  the  river,  about  two  miles  away  one 
evening  to  fish,"  said  he,  "and  was  caught  in  a 
series  of  thunderstorms  which  were  so  fierce 
they  fairly  made  the  earth  shake.  I  stayed  in  a 
fisherman's  shack  on  the  bank,  and  when  I 
looked  out  all  I  could  see  was  just  balls  of  fire 
flying  through  the  air.  The  storms  kept  coming 
up  one  right  after  the  other  all  night  long. 

"I'd  gone  to  fish  for  sturgeon.  They  run  up 
the  rapids  about  the  middle  of  June  when  the 
raspberries  are  in  blossom.,  It  took  two  men  to 
do  the  fishing.  One  would  stand  on  the  bank 
with  a  fat  pine  torch,  and  the  other,  armed  with 
a  long  pole  that  had  a  gaff  on  the  end,  would 
watch  till  he  saw  a  fish  and  then  make  a  strike 
at  it.  I've  caught  lots  of  sturgeon  that  would 
weigh  over  a  hundred  pounds  apiece.  They 
sometimes  grew  to  be  eight  or  ten  feet  long  and 
were  so  strong  they'd  pull  a  man  in." 

There  are  still  sturgeon  in  the  river,  but  the 
construction  of  a  canal  around  the  rapids  has 
so  changed  the  conditions  along  shore  that 
the  fishing  has  been  abandoned.  By  way  of  this 
canal  all  the  ordinary  water  traffic  passes  up  and 
down  the  valley;  for  the  steamer  that  goes  down 


The  Rapids  53 

the  Long  Sauk  makes  the  trip  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  a  thrill  to  tourists. 

At  the  lower  end  of  the  canal  is  the  busy 
manufacturing  town  of  Cornwall;  but  the 
attractions  of  the  town  itself  appealed  less  to 
me  than  the  fact  that  in  its  vicinity  was  the 
Indian  village  of  St.  Regis.  The  Indian  com- 
munity, however,  is  five  miles  down  the  river  on 
the  other  side.  When  I  inquired  how  to  get 
there  someone  recommended  a  certain  old  man 
who  owned  a  motor  boat.  I  hunted  him  up  and 
we  went  together  to  his  little  shack  of  a  boat- 
house.  A  small  girl  came  and  stood  on  the 
bank  watching  our  preparations  to  embark,  and 
my  ancient  mariner  chatted  with  her  affection- 
ately. He  called  her  "  Beauty,"  and  in  an  aside 
to  me  said  she  was  a  favorite  of  his  because  her 
looks  reminded  him  so  much  of  his  first  wife. 

Presently  the  engine  had  been  oiled  and 
started  and  we  pushed  out  of  the  boathouse  into 
the  stream  and  sped  away  down  the  river  aided 
by  the  current  and  a  brisk  wind.  The  engine 
did  not  run  very  smoothly.  Every  little  while  it 
gave  an  explosive  snort  and  slowed  down  as  if  it 
intended  to  quit  work.  But  we  kept  on  without 
a  stop,  dashing  through  the  crested  waves  and 
rounding  point  after  point  until  the  old   man 


54       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

called  to  me  and  pointing  with  his  finger  said: 
"St.  Regis." 

I  looked  and  saw  in  the  distance,  close  by  the 
shore,  a  stone  church  and  some  clustering  homes. 
We  soon  made  a  landing,  and  I  went  up  the 
bank  and  rambled  about  the  village.  The 
church  and  the  stone-walled,  low-roofed  priest's 
house  were  within  a  few  rods  of  the  water.  Be- 
hind were  the  village  dwellings  strung  along 
rough,  narrow  lanes;  and  there  were  little  fields 
of  potatoes,  corn  and  pumpkins,  and  thistle- 
grown  opens  and  pastures.  The  houses  were 
nearly  all  small,  and  their  aspect  was  dismally 
barren  and  often  shabby.  At  several  places  a 
tall  wooden  cross  was  erected  by  the  wayside. 
These  crosses  were  praying  places  in  the  pro- 
cessional religious  fetes. 

The  church  building  was  evidently  not  to  be 
attributed  to  the  taste  and  enterprise  of  the 
Indians  themselves.  It  was  large,  substantial 
and  well-proportioned.  Indian  individuality 
seemed,  however,  to  find  expression  in  the  un- 
kempt burial  place  at  one  side  of  the  edifice. 
Amid  the  ragged  growths  of  weeds  and  grass 
was  an  occasional  gravestone,  and  two  or  three 
graves  were  surrounded  by  rickety  picket- 
fences,  but  the  only  really  conspicuous  object  was 


The  Rapids  55 

a  weathercock  that  had  formerly  been  on  the 
church  spire  and  that  had  been  replaced  there 
by  a  gilt  cross.  It  was  a  grotesque  sort  of  bird 
on  an  ornamental  standard  perhaps  ten  feet  high, 
and  it  looked  very  strange  guarding  the  burial- 
place. 

The  day  had  been  clear  and  sunny,  but  now 
big  threatening  clouds  were  reaching  up  across 
the  sky,  and  when  I  returned  to  the  boat  the 
prospect  was  so  stormy  that  my  skipper  hesi- 
tated to  start.  Soon,  however,  the  sky  bright- 
ened, and  we  got  under  way  right  in  the  teeth 
of  the  wind  so  that  the  spray  from  the  white  caps, 
as  we  bumped  the  waves,  came  flying  over  me 
where  I  sat  in  the  bow.  The  sun  shone  at  inter- 
vals through  the  broken  clouds  and  illumined 
the  river  and  the  vast  low  landscape  in  a  many- 
colored  pageant.  Where  the  river  was  in  sunlight 
it  was  a  delicate  opaline  tint,  but  under  the  cloud 
shadows  it  took  on  many  a  dusky  tone  of  darker 
green  or  blue.  The  fields  and  woods  on  the 
banks  alternated  in  the  changing  light  and 
shadow  from  brilliant  emerald  to  sober  olive, 
while  the  distance  was  purple  or  azure. 

I  was  having  a  glorious  voyage,  and  thinking 
how  all  this  scenic  impressiveness  must  have 
appealed  to  the  old  French  explorers  when  sud- 


56       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

denly  our  engine  stopped.  "It  won't  pump," 
said  my  skipper,  "and  it  has  got  so  hot  I  don't 
dare  let  it  work  any  longer." 

Sure  enough,  the  machinery  was  smoking,  and 
there  was  a  smell  of  burnt  oil  in  the  air.  We 
were  in  mid-river,  far  from  our  destination,  with 
desolate  shores  on  either  side,  and  wind  and 
current  against  us.  The  boat  swung  around 
helpless  amid  the  buffeting  waves,  and  we  had 
nothing  with  which  to  relieve  the  situation  except 
one  slender  oar  and  a  broken  paddle.  I  labored 
with  the  former  and  the  skipper  with  the  latter; 
but  the  craft  was  too  heavy  and  the  elements  too 
boisterous  for  us  to  make  much  of  a  success  of 
this  sort  of  navigation.  We  could  not  prevent 
the  boat  from  swinging  out  of  its  course,  and  in 
order  to  correct  its  erraticalness  I  had  to  shift  my 
oar  to  the  opposite  side  every  few  minutes.  So 
we  were  carried  down  stream  in  spite  of  all  we 
could  do. 

At  length  the  skipper  started  his  engine  and 
got  us  around  a  point  to  where  the  current  was 
less  swift.  Then  he  again  had  to  shut  off  power 
and  we  resumed  our  labor  with  the  oar  and  the 
broken  paddle.  My  companion  was  by  nature 
optimistic,  and  though  he  sometimes  swore  and 
sometimes  groaned,  he  every  little  while  had  an 


The  Rapids  57 

idea  for  fixing  his  engine.  His  hands  were  too 
shaky  for  him  to  work  with  much  expertness, 
and  again  and  again  he  abandoned  the  task  and 
took  up  the  paddle.  Two  or  three  motor  boats 
passed,  but  were  far  off  across  the  great  river. 
The  old  man  put  his  hands  up  at  the  sides  of  his 
mouth  and  tried  to  hail  them,  and  he  swung  his 
hat.  But  the  people  in  the  motor  boats  neither 
saw  nor  heard  and  soon  disappeared  frow  view. 
Our  own  best  speed  would  hardly  have  rivalled 
that  of  a  snail. 

Finally  an  Indian  came  along  in  a  skiff.  I 
beckoned  to  him,  and  he  turned  aside  from  his 
course,  and  when  he  drew  near  rested  on  his 
oars  and  regarded  us  curiously.  My  skipper 
explained  our  trouble,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the 
Indian  should  take  me  across  the  river  and  leave 
word  at  a  certain  boathouse  to  send  help  to  the 
castaway  mariner.  We  got  the  old  man's  craft 
to  the  shore  and  there  left  him.  Then  away  we 
went  over  the  white-capped  river.  My  oarsman 
was  a  sinewy  fellow  who  kept  steadily  and 
vigorously  to  his  task,  and  after  a  long  pull 
reached  the  opposite  bank,  and  I  plodded  back 
to  town. 

I  had  supper  at  a  small  hotel  near  the  railroad 
station.    My  companions  at  the  table  were  of  the 


58       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

working  class,  and  while  they  ate  they  were  en- 
gaged in  a  continuous  joking  discussion  of  their 
escapades  when  drunk.  That  they  should  get 
drunk  was  taken  as  a  matter  of  course.  Appar- 
ently it  was  their  view  that  no  manly  man  would 
always  keep  sober,  and  even  if  he  had  spells  of 
being  unquestionably  vicious  or  beastly,  that 
was  usually  thought  humorous  by  his  mates. 
To  smoke  and  spit  in  public  places,  to  swear  and 
swagger  and  guzzle  seems  to  be  the  ambition  of 
a  very  large  proportion  of  the  Canadian  youths. 
Their  elders  set  the  pace.  I  remember  seeing  a 
white-haired,  spectacled  man  in  a  street  car  who 
proclaimed  his  nationality  by  singing  "Scots 
wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled"  as  he  marched  up 
and  down  the  aisle;  and  each  time  he  made  a 
step  he  wound  the  leg  he  lifted  around  the  other 
in  a  most  ecstatic  manner.  Drinking  is  the  habit 
of  the  country  and  is  not  confined  to  any  par- 
ticular class. 

In  continuing  down  the  river  from  the  Long 
Sault,  there  is  a  considerable  interval  of  smooth 
water  before  the  Coteau  Rapids  are  reached. 
The  steamer  makes  the  descent  of  these  by  a 
tortuous  channel  that  winds  in  and  out  among 
numerous  islands.     At  times  the  vessel  almost 


The  Rapids  59 

brushes  the  trees  on  shore  as  it  sweeps  swiftly 
along. 

Seven  miles  farther  on  are  Cedar  Rapids, 
which  are  commonly  held  to  be  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  the  entire  series,  and  immediately  after- 
ward occur  the  Split  Rock  Rapids.  The  latter 
are  sentineled  at  the  entrance  by  submerged  and 
ominous  boulders,  and  they  are  particularly 
difficult  to  navigate.  Next  comes  the  white- 
crested  turbulence  of  the  Cascade  Rapids,  and 
then  for  a  dozen  miles  the  river  is  a  broad 
expanse  known  as  Lake  St.  Louis. 

Charles  Dickens  made  this  river  trip  in  1842, 
but  travelled  by  stagecoach  around  the  more 
violent  rapids.  He  mentions  being  much  im- 
pressed by  the  rafts  which  then  were  frequently 
seen  floating  down  the  river.  One  of  these  that 
he  describes  as  "gigantic"  had  "some  thirty  or 
forty  wooden  houses  on  it,  and  at  least  as  many 
flag  masts  so  that  it  looked  like  a  nautical  street.'* 
In  those  days  all  the  lumber  from  the  regions 
above  was  floated  down  the  St.  Lawrence  in 
this  manner.  After  the  raft  reached  its  desti- 
nation it  was  broken  up,  the  materials  were  sold 
and  the  boatmen  returned  for  more. 

When  Lake  St.  Louis  is  passed,  and  the  river 
contracts  to  its  normal  width  its  main  mass  flows 


6o       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

south  of  the  great  Island  of  Montreal.  At  the 
left,  on  the  island,  is  the  town  of  Lachine.  This 
place  was  begun  by  La  Salle,  who  arrived  in 
Montreal  in  the  spring  of  1666.  Most  of  the 
island  was  then  in  the  control  of  a  corporation 
of  priests,  styled  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice. 
Montreal  was  very  much  exposed  to  Indian 
attacks,  and  the  priests  wanted  to  extend  a  thin 
line  of  settlements  along  the  front  of  their  island 
to  serve  as  protecting  outposts.  So  they  granted 
to  La  Salle,  on  easy  terms,  a  large  tract  of  land 
some  eight  or  nine  miles  up  the  river.  Though 
the  tract  was  dangerously  exposed,  its  situation 
was  very  advantageous  for  the  fur  trade,  and  La 
Salle  soon  interested  others  in  the  enterprise  and 
began  the  improvement  of  his  domain.  He  laid 
out  the  boundaries  of  a  palisaded  village,  assign- 
ing to  each  settler  about  a  third  of  an  acre  within 
the  inclosure  and  about  forty  acres  outside. 
For  his  own  personal  use  he  reserved  three 
hundred  acres  and  built  on  it  a  stout  stone  house 
near  the  waterside. 

The  Indians  soon  began  to  visit  the  secluded 
settlement,  and  La  Salle  learned  the  languages 
and  dialects  of  seven  or  eight  different  tribes. 
Some  of  the  more  western  of  these  visitors  told 
him  of  a  river  called  the  Ohio  which  started  in 


The  Rapids  6i 

their  country  and  flowed  toward  the  sunset  to  a 
sea  that  was  many  months'  journey  distant. 
La  Salle  shared  the  common  fancy  of  the  times 
that  a  passage  might  exist  through  the  American 
continent  to  the  South  Sea,  and  he  concluded 
that  this  Ohio  River  flowed  into  the  Gulf  of 
California.  He  was  eager  to  explore  it,  and  in 
order  to  gain  the  means  for  the  journey  he 
induced  the  Seminary  to  buy  back  most  of  his 
Lachine  domain,  and  he  found  another  customer 
for  the  rest.  The  expedition  started  in  mid- 
summer, 1669,  and  it  reached  the  Ohio  and 
followed  that  river  down  as  far  as  Louisville. 
Then  various  troubles  and  difficulties  obliged 
La  Salle  to  turn  back.  On  his  return  to  civiliza- 
tion Lachine  received  the  name  it  bears  in 
derision  of  the  young  explorer's  attempt  to  find 
a  western  passage  to  China. 

Lachine  had  an  anxious  time  in  its  early 
years,  for  it  was  peculiarly  open  to  the  raids  of 
the  warlike  and  powerful  Iroquois.  Champlain 
had  come  into  violent  collision  with  these  Indians 
soon  after  the  first  permanent  settlement  was 
made  in  the  St.  Lawrence  valley,  and  they  had 
never  been  really  friendly  with  the  French  since. 
That  they  were  not  always  openly  hostile  was 
due  to  diplomacy  and  the  eff"orts  of  the  mission- 


62       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

aries.  Circumstances  led  them  to  a  somewhat 
loose  alliance  with  the  English,  and  they  helped 
the  latter  to  divert  the  fur  trade  of  the  Great 
Lakes  away  from  the  St.  Lawrence.  This  trade 
was  almost  the  only  means  of  subsistence  to  the 
French,  and  when  they  attempted  to  retaliate 
the  Iroquois  could  be  restrained  no  longer.  The 
result  was  that  in  1689  there  was  great  suffering 
in  all  the  little  settlements  on  the  upper  river. 
No  one  was  safe  who  ventured  out  of  the  hastily- 
built  stockade  forts,  the  fields  were  left  untilled, 
and  the  Indians  prowled  about  waylaying  con- 
voys and  killing  or  capturing  stragglers.  Their 
movements  were  so  mysterious  and  their  attacks 
so  sudden  that  the  settlers  lived  in  a  state  of 
constant  dread. 

One  night  a  violent  hail-storm  burst  over  Lake 
St.  Louis.  In  the  midst  of  this  tempest  fifteen  hun- 
dred Iroquois  warriors  landed  at  Lachine,  and 
posted  themselves  unperceived  about  the  houses 
of  the  sleeping  settlers.  Then  they  screeched 
their  warwhoop,  and  began  the  most  frightful 
massacre  in  Canadian  history.  The  houses  were 
burned,  and  men,  women  and  children  indis- 
criminately butchered.  In  the  neighborhood 
were  several  stockade  forts,  and  only  three  miles 
away    was    an    encampment    of   two    hundred 


The  Rapids  63 

soldiers.  At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  the 
troops  in  the  camp  heard  a  cannon-shot  from 
one  of  the  forts.  They  were  at  once  ordered 
under  arms.  Soon  afterward,  a  man,  just  es- 
caped from  the  massacre,  came  running  to 
them,  and  after  telling  his  story,  hurried  on 
toward  Montreal.  Then  a  number  of  fugitives 
appeared,  chased  by  a  band  of  Iroquois,  who 
gave  over  the  pursuit  at  sight  of  the  soldiers, 
but  pillaged  several  houses  before  their  eyes. 

Presently,  when  about  a  hundred  armed  in- 
habitants had  joined  the  troops  they  moved 
together  toward  Lachine.  The  houses  were  still 
burning,  and  the  bodies  of  their  inmates  were 
strewn  among  them.  An  escaped  prisoner 
brought  the  information  that  the  Indians  were 
all  encamped  a  mile  and  a  half  farther  on, 
most  of  them  helplessly  drunk  with  brandy 
taken  from  the  houses  of  the  traders.  The 
leader  of  the  troops  would  have  led  his  force 
against  them,  but  just  then  orders  came  from 
the  governor  at  Montreal  to  run  no  risks  and 
stand  solely  on  the  defensive.  They  therefore 
retired  to  one  of  the  forts.  The  next  day  a  de- 
tachment of  eighty  men  from  another  fort 
attempted  to  join  them;  but  they  were  attacked 
by  the  Iroquois,  who  had  slept  off  the  effect  of 


64       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

their  orgies,  and  in  full  sight  of  their  fellow- 
soldiers  were  nearly  all  killed  or  captured. 

Montreal  was  wild  with  terror,  though  it  was 
fortified  with  palisades  and  there  were  troops 
in  the  town  under  the  governor  himself.  The 
fears  of  the  panic-stricken  people  were  not  real- 
ized, for  town  and  forts  were  left  unmolested. 
The  Indians  contented  themselves  with  burning 
all  the  houses  and  barns  for  nine  miles  around, 
while  small  parties  pillaged  and  scalped  at 
twice  that  distance.  Their  own  losses  were  in- 
significant, consisting  of  a  few  warriors  killed 
and  three  drunken  stragglers  captured.  These 
prisoners,  when  they  came  to  their  senses,  defied 
their  guards  and  fought  with  such  ferocity  that 
it  was  necessary  to  shoot  them. 

For  two  months  the  invaders  continued  to 
roam  the  vicinity,  and  then  most  of  them  took 
to  their  canoes  and  recrossed  Lake  St.  Louis  in 
a  body,  giving  ninety  yells  to  show  they  had 
that  number  of  prisoners  in  their  clutches. 
There  were  enough  other  captives  to  make  fully 
one  hundred  and  twenty  in  all,  and  about  two 
hundred  persons  had  been  killed.  The  Indians 
camped  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake  and  began 
to  torture  and  devour  their  prisoners,  and  from 
the    strand    of   Lachine    sorrowing    groups    of 


The  Rapids  65 

whites  saw  the  fires  gleaming  along  the  distant 
shore  where  their  friends  and  relatives  were 
suffering.  The  greater  part  of  the  prisoners, 
however,  were  reserved  to  be  carried  to  the  towns 
of  the  Indians  and  there  tortured  for  the  diver- 
sion of  the  inhabitants. 

It  was  at  one  time  the  hope  of  the  French  to 
win  over  the  Iroquois  in  a  body  by  wholesale 
conversion  to  the  Faith;  but  this  attempt  failed. 
So  beside  the  St.  Lawrence  on  the  south  side  of 
the  river  nearly  opposite  Lachine  they  estab- 
lished a  village  which  should  be  the  home  of 
such  converts  as  they  could  gain.  In  1736  the 
number  of  warriors  at  this  village  of  Caugh- 
nawaga,  a  name  that  means  praying  Indians, 
was  estimated  at  three  hundred.  They  could 
not  be  trusted  to  fight  their  kinsmen,  but  willing- 
ly made  forays  against  the  English  borders. 
Like  the  other  Canadian  missions  Caughnawaga 
was  of  value  to  the  Church,  the  army  and  the 
fur  trade.  It  had  a  chapel,  fortifications  and 
storehouses.  The  present  town  has  a  population 
of  nearly  three  thousand.  Its  people  are  devoted 
adherents  of  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  and  each 
year,  in  June,  join  in  the  celebration  of  the  Fete 
Dieu,  accoutered  in  their  tribal  paint  and 
ornaments. 


66       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

From  the  Lachine  shore  I  could  see  Caughna- 
waga's  slender  church  spire  and  close-set  homes 
on  the  opposite  bank  vague  in  the  silvery  haze 
of  the  distance,  and  I  was  enticed  to  go  across 
and  visit  the  place.  I  journeyed  over  the  river 
in  a  rude,  stumpy  steam  ferryboat  that  made 
two  trips  a  day.  The  village  was  strung  along 
on  a  low  rocky  bluff  that  affords  an  agreeable 
outlook  on  the  swift,  clear  river.  There  was  no 
apparent  method  in  the  layout  of  the  town.  The 
streets  went  helter-skelter,  and  the  houses  seemed 
placed  by  chance,  with  very  little  foresight  in 
the  matter  of  personal  or  community  conven- 
ience. Through  the  midst  of  the  homes  that 
gathered  along  the  riverfront  there  was  a 
straggling  ungraded  stony  road  with  plenty  of 
mudholes  for  variety.  It  was  irregularly  rutted 
with  the  tracks  of  wheels  that  showed  how  the 
teams  had  wandered  hither  and  thither  in  a 
hopeless  attempt  to  find  a  route  that  was  both 
firm  and  smooth.  One  short  portion  of  the 
street  had  a  few  shade  trees,  and  there  were  often 
unkempt  fruit  trees  back  of  the  houses.  Some 
of  these  houses  were  reasonably  large  and  well- 
built,  but  the  majority  were  small  and  shabby. 
Occasionally  the  walls  were  of  logs,  but  frame 
houses  were  more  common,  and   there  were   a 


The  Rapids  67 

considerable  number  made  of  stone.  To  repair 
or  improve  a  building  was  evidently  a  last  resort, 
and  you  felt  yourself  to  be  in  a  community  of 
incompetents  or  of  persons  vi^ith  some  curious 
mental  bias.  Many  of  the  men  are  employees 
in  the  outlying  Montreal  manufactories  and  do 
fairly  well,  though  very  rarely  becoming  skilled 
workmen.  Near  the  houses  were  little  gardens 
where  grew  corn,  potatoes  and  weeds.  I  ob- 
served no  tendency  to  cultivate  flowers  or  to  in 
any  way  beautify  the  surroundings  of  the  dwell- 
ings. In  a  number  of  houses  a  room  or  a  corner 
of  it  was  devoted  to  a  litte  store,  and  there  was 
a  display  of  goods  in  the  front  window.  But  the 
window  was  ill-suited  for  such  use,  and  the 
goods  were  too  unattractive  in  themselves  and 
too  poorly  displayed  to  be  tempting. 

The  church  was  large  and  substantial,  and 
its  gritty,  deep-worn  floor  attested  the  devotion 
of  the  Indians  to  their  religion.  I  could  not  help 
fancying  that  the  gaudiness  of  the  altar  decora- 
tions and  the  sufferings  depicted  in  the  colored 
pictures  on  the  walls  had  something  to  do  with 
the  worshippers'  attachment  to  the  church.  On 
the  borders  of  the  village  was  their  cemetery 
surrounded  by  a  stout  wire  fence.  A  few  of 
the  graves  were  marked  with  stones,  but  most 


68       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

had  merely  a  wooden  cross  set  up  that  in  a  few 
years  would  decay  and  disappear. 

Caughnawaga  has  a  melancholy  connection 
with  one  of  the  most  tragic  events  in  the  history 
of  New  England — the  destruction  of  Deerfield 
by  the  French  and  Indians  in  1704.  Many 
captives  were  taken  through  the  winter  snows 
to  Canada,  and  Eunice  Williams,  the  little 
daughter  of  the  Deerfield  minister,  was  lodged 
among  these  mission  Indians.  Most  of  the 
captives  were  ransomed  later,  but  the  Indians, 
or  the  missionaries  in  their  name,  would  not  let 
the  little  girl  go.  Her  father  visited  her  soon 
after  she  had  been  sent  to  the  mission,  and  lest 
she  should  become  a  convert  to  the  Catholic 
religion,  exhorted  her  to  remember  all  the  pious 
teachings  of  her  home.  "She  is  there  still," 
writes  Williams  two  years  later,  "and  has  for- 
gotten to  speak  English."  What  grieved  him 
still  more,  she  had  forgotten  her  catechism. 

Time  went  on,  and  Eunice  Williams,  the  name- 
sake of  her  mother  who  had  been  slaughtered  on 
the  march  northward,  remained  in  the  wigwams 
of  the  Caughnawagas.  She  was  baptized  and 
eventually  married  an  Indian  of  the  tribe,  who 
thenceforward  called  himself  Williams.  Their 
children  therefore  bore  her  family  name.     Her 


Satling  vessels  at  the  Montreal  wharves 


The  Rapids  69 

father,  who  went  back  to  his  parish  at  Deerfield, 
never  ceased  to  pray  for  her  return  to  her  country 
and  her  faith.  She  actually  made  a  visit  to  her  re- 
lations in  1740,  dressed  as  a  squaw  and  wrapped 
in  an  Indian  blanket;  but  nothing  would  per- 
suade her  to  stay.  On  one  occasion  she  was  in- 
duced to  put  on  civilized  dress  and  go  to  church; 
yet  immediately  after  the  service  she  impatiently 
discarded  her  gown  and  resumed  her  blanket. 
She  came  again  the  next  year,  bringing  two  of  her 
half-breed  children,  and  twice  afterward  re- 
peated the  visit.  She  and  her  husband  were 
offered  a  tract  of  land  if  they  would  settle  in 
New  England;  but  she  positively  refused  saying 
that  it  would  endanger  her  soul.  She  lived  to  a 
great  age,  a  squaw  to  the  last. 

The  case  of  Eunice  Williams  was  far  from 
being  an  isolated  one,  and  a  missionary  at  the 
Indian  town  of  St.  Francis,  writing  in  1866, 
remarks,  "If  one  should  trace  out  all  the  English 
families  brought  into  Canada  by  the  Indians, 
one  would  be  astonished  at  the  number  of  persons 
who  today  are  indebted  to  these  savages  for  the 
blessing  of  being  Catholics  and  the  advantage 
of  being  Canadians." 

A  little  below  Caughnawaga  are  the  Lachine 
Rapids  with  a  fall  of  forty-five  feet.    Not  many 


70       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

years  ago  long  rowboats  manned  by  the  Indians 
used  to  shoot  the  rapids  conveying  parties  of 
tourists  but  the  present-day  Indians  seem  to  have 
less  aquatic  skill  than  their  predecessors,  and 
the  pastime  has  been  abandoned.  To  look  at 
the  white  tumult  of  the  rushing  flood  one  would 
not  think  a  small  boat  could  withstand  the  stress, 
but  the  Indians  were  so  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  shoals  and  rocks  and  the  frantic  humors 
of  the  fierce  current  that  the  feat  was  accom- 
plished with  safety. 

The  first  white  man  to  brave  these  rapids  was 
a  youth  who,  on  the  tenth  of  June,  1611,  went 
with  two  Indians  to  shoot  herons  on  an  island. 
He  was  drowned  on  the  way  down.  A  few  days 
later  another  white  man  came  down  safely  with 
a  party  of  Hurons  among  whom  he  had  spent 
the  winter.  Champlain  was  the  third  to  make 
the  descent.  He  had  been  conferring  with  the 
Indians  at  the  upper  end  of  the  island,  and  they 
took  him  down  the  rapids  in  their  birchen  boats, 
somewhat  to  the  discomposure  of  his  nerves, 
as  he  admits. 

Of  course  the  modern  passage  down  the  rapids 
in  a  steamboat  is  comparatively  prosaic,  but 
there  is  nevertheless  a  certain  sense  of  peril,  and 
it  is  reassuring  to  know  that  not  an  accident  of 


The  Rapids  71 

any  consequence  has  happened,  nor  has  a  single 
life  been  lost  for  many  years.  As  the  vessel 
approaches  the  really  tumultuous  part  of  the 
rapids  there  is  a  long  prelude  of  swift  water  that 
boils  and  writhes  ominously.  At  length  the 
current  roughens  into  foamy  surges  and  you  can 
feel  the  griping  clutches  of  the  demoniac  water 
beneath  the  boat.  Yet  the  motion  of  the  vessel 
never  becomes  so  violent  as  to  be  dismaying. 
It  is  simply  a  slide  down  a  turbulent  liquid  hill, 
and  only  some  very  unlikely  internal  disable- 
ment of  the  vessel  could  produce  a  possibility  of 
disaster.  The  wilder  portion  of  the  rapids  is 
passed  in  a  few  minutes  and  the  boat  is  again 
in  a  torrent  that  only  heaves  and  twists. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  beautiful 
September  day  that  I  made  the  trip.  The  at- 
mosphere was  clear,  and  I  could  look  far  off 
over  the  broad  landscape,  and  in  the  remote  east 
could  see  some  mountain  ranges  lying  blue  and 
serene  along  the  horizon.  The  near  shore  of 
Montreal  Island  was  luxuriantly  fringed  with 
trees  amid  which  I  got  glimpses  of  homes  dotted 
along  near  the  waterside,  while  on  ahead, 
golden  in  the  light  of  sunset,  was  the  smoke- 
plumed,  wide-spreading  city  with  its  many  spires 
and  domes,  and  behind  it  the  guardian  height 


72       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

of  Mount  Royal.  The  steamer  was  still  in  mid- 
stream and  there  was  not  yet  any  cessation  in 
the  boiling  swiftness  of  the  current  when  we 
passed  between  two  of  the  mighty  piers  of  the 
Victoria  Bridge.  Not  until  we  were  in  the 
harbor  close  to  our  dock  did  we  reach  quiet 
water. 

The  rapids  all  occur  between  Prescott  and 
Montreal,  and  the  journey  down  requires  only 
a  few  hours,  but  the  steamer's  return  with  the 
necessity  of  moving  slowly  in  the  canals  and 
loitering  through  numerous  locks  consumes  a 
night  and  part  of  two  days.  In  early  times, 
before  the  advent  of  the  canals,  this  up-river 
journey  in  small  boats  was  not  only  slow  but 
arduous.  One  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries  writing 
of  his  experiences  in  climbing  the  rapids  says: 

"  It  is  often  necessary  to  alight  from  the  canoe 
and  walk  in  the  river.  The  canoe  is  grasped 
with  the  hand  and  dragged  behind,  two  men 
usually  sufficing  for  this.  I  sometimes  took  a 
hand  in  helping  my  savages;  but  the  bottom 
of  the  river  is  full  of  stones  so  sharp  that  I  could 
not  walk  long,  being  barefooted.  There  are 
portages  of  one,  two  and  three  leagues,  and  it  is 
necessary  to  carry  all  the  baggage  through  woods 
or  over  high  and  troublesome  rocks,   as  well  as 


>>. 


The  Rapids  73 

the  canoes  themselves.  This  is  not  done  without 
much  work,  for  several  trips  must  be  made,  no 
matter  how  few  packages  one  has." 

To  preserve  the  good  nature  of  his  "savages" 
the  missionary  tried  to  never  keep  them  waiting 
when  they  were  ready  to  embark,  and  at  the 
portages  he  helped  with  the  burdens.  Even  if 
he  carried  no  more  than  a  kettle  the  Indians 
were  pleased.  He  was  provided  with  a  **  burning- 
mirror"  which  he  used  on  sunny  days  to  make 
a  mid-day  campfire  or  light  the  boatmen's  pipes; 
and  he  had  a  tinder-box  to  start  a  fire  in  the 
evening. 

The  canals  around  the  Cascade,  Cedar  and 
Coteau  Rapids  were  begun  at  the  time  of  the 
American  Revolution  and  were  the  first  on  this 
continent.  Not  until  long  afterward  was  work 
started  on  the  Lachine  Canal,  and  it  was  1821 
when  it  was  ready  for  use. 


IV 

EARLY   MONTREAL 

^  I  ^HE  situation  of  Montreal  makes  it  a  natural 
-'-  center  of  human  travel  and  traffic.  It  is 
at  the  foot  of  the  last  of  the  St.  Lawrence  rapids, 
and  near  the  mouth  of  the  Ottawa  which  comes 
in  from  the  north,  and  it  is  within  a  short  dis- 
tance overland  of  the  Richelieu  which  flows 
from  the  south.  This  position  was  of  importance 
even  in  the  prehistoric  Indian  days.  Many  a 
barbaric  fight  must  have  taken  place  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  many  a  canoe  full  of  painted 
warriors  must  have  crept  stealthily  along  the 
shore  of  Montreal  Island  with  intent  to  surprise 
their  enemies. 

Carrier  had  found  a  populous  Indian  town  at 
the  foot  of  Mount  Royal,  but  when  Champlain 
visited  the  island  in  1603  the  town  had  vanished. 
Doubtless  enemies  had  wiped  it  out.  Montreal 
was  the  gateway  to  the  Indian  country  west  and 
north,  and  in  161 1  Champlain  resorted  thither 
to  consider  establishing  there  a  permanent 
trading-post.    It  was  about  the  time  of  year  that 


Early  Montreal  75 

the  Indians  from  the  far  interior  brought  their  furs 
down  the  river,  and  a  crowd  of  adventurers  eager 
to  barter  for  this  wilderness  wealth  followed  in 
Champlain's  wake  in  a  fleet  of  boats  and  small 
vessels.  Shortly  after  they  reached  their  desti- 
nation a  party  of  Hurons  was  seen  coming  down 
the  Lachine  Rapids,  their  birch  canoes  dancing 
through  the  foam  and  spray  of  the  angry  torrent. 
As  they  drew  near  the  landing,  the  fur-traders 
blazed  out  a  clattering  fusilade  of  welcome — a 
form  of  greeting  so  unfamiliar  to  the  savages 
that  they  were  greatly  terrified,  and  it  was  only 
after  a  good  deal  of  hesitation  that  they  would 
venture  to  land.  Other  parties  of  Indians 
arrived  later  and  they  all  camped  along  the 
waterside. 

The  traders,  in  jealous  competition  for  the 
beaver  skins  the  savages  had  brought,  left  them 
no  peace,  and  they  were  increasingly  alarmed 
and  suspicious.  Late  one  night  they  awakened 
Champlain  and  conducted  him  to  their  camp 
where  the  whole  company  was  in  solemn  con- 
clave around  the  glimmering  firelight.  They 
trusted  him,  but  were  convinced  that  the  lawless 
bands  of  rival  traders  intended  to  plunder  and 
kill  them.  Champlain  tried  in  vain  to  reassure 
the  perturbed  warriors.     They  were  so  vividly 


76       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

impressed  with  the  fancied  peril  of  their  present 
position  that  they  removed  in  a  body  to  the 
borders  of  Lake  St.  Louis  a  number  of  miles  up 
the  river,  thus  placing  the  rapids  between  them 
and  the  objects  of  their  alarm. 

Champlain  concluded  that  conditions  were 
not  propitious  for  establishing  a  permanent 
colony  at  Montreal.  Its  importance  as  a  trad- 
ing-post grew,  however,  though  it  was  occupied 
only  a  part  of  the  year  until  1642.  The  settle- 
ment of  the  place  at  that  time  was  due  to  some 
religious  enthusiasts  in  France,  one  of  whom 
was  commanded  in  a  vision  to  become  the 
founder  of  a  new  order  of  hospital  nuns  on  the 
Island  of  Montreal  in  the  St.  Lawrence.  He 
interested  others  in  the  project,  and  at  length  an 
expedition  was  dispatched  under  the  command 
of  a  devout  and  gallant  gentleman  named 
Maisonneuve,  who  mustered  forty  men  and 
four  women  for  the  enterprise. 

After  they  had  started  on  their  voyage  across 
the  Atlantic  the  French  Associates  who  were 
responsible  for  the  new  settlement  that  was  to 
be  founded  in  the  wilderness  gathered  at  Paris 
in  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame.  There,  before 
the  altar  of  the  Virgin,  they  consecrated  the  settle- 


Early  Montreal  77 

ment  to  the  Holy  Family  and  named  it  Ville 
marie  de  Montreal. 

The  voyagers  arrived  at  Quebec  in  1641,  but 
too  late  to  ascend  to  Montreal  that  season.  Dur- 
ing the  v^inter  they  built  boats,  and  early  in  May 
they  embarked  to  go  on  up  the  river.  The  boats 
consisted  of  a  pinnace,  a  flat-bottomed  craft 
moved  by  sails,  and  two  rowboats.  Deep-laden 
Vfc'ith  men,  arms  and  stores,  the  boats  moved 
slovsrly  on  their  way,  and  on  the  eighteenth  of 
the  month  the  little  company  landed  where  the 
great  docks  of  the  modern  city  now  are.  Here 
a  rivulet  joined  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  beyond 
a  meadow  that  bordered  the  brook  rose  the 
forest. 

Maisonneuve  sprang  ashore  and  fell  on  his 
knees.  His  followers  imitated  his  example,  and 
all  joined  their  voices  in  songs  of  thanksgiving. 
Afterward  they  erected  an  altar  and  transferred 
their  goods  to  the  shore.  Presently  the  twilight 
came  on  and  fireflies  twinkled  over  the  darkening 
meadow.  Then  the  pioneers  pitched  their  tents, 
lighted  their  bivouac  fires,  stationed  their  guards 
and  lay  down  to  rest. 

In  the  morning  work  was  resumed.  Maison- 
neuve himself  hewed  down  the  first  tree  to  be 
used  in  making  a  strong  palisade  around  their 


yS       I'he  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

camp.  This  palisade  was  soon  completed,  a 
chapel  of  bark  was  built  to  protect  their  altar, 
and  log  cabins  to  take  the  place  of  the  tents.  On 
Sundays  they  would  stroll  over  the  meadow  and 
among  the  trees  of  the  forest. 

The  summer  passed  prosperously,  but  in 
December  the  St.  Lawrence  rose  threateningly. 
They  tried  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  and  Maison- 
neuve  planted  a  wooden  cross  in  the  path  of 
the  advancing  flood  and  vowed  that  should  it 
spare  their  settlement  he  would  bear  another 
cross  on  his  shoulders  up  the  neighboring  moun- 
tain, and  place  it  on  the  summit.  The  water 
continued  to  rise,  filled  the  fort  ditch  and  crept 
up  to  the  foot  of  the  palisade;  but  there  it 
stopped,  and  at  length  it  receded  to  its  proper 
channel.  In  order  to  fulfill  his  promise,  Maison- 
neuve  now  set  his  men  at  work  to  clear  a  path 
through  the  forest  to  the  top  of  the  mountain. 
A  large  cross  was  made,  and  the  inhabitants 
went  in  solemn  procession  to  the  destined  spot 
the  commandant  walking  in  the  rear  and  carry- 
ing the  cross,  which  was  so  heavy  it  taxed  his 
utmost  strength  to  climb  the  steep  and  rugged 
path.  They  planted  the  sacred  symbol  on  the 
highest  crest,  and  all  knelt  in  adoration  be- 
fore   it.     There    the   cross   long    remained,   an 


Early  Montreal  7 

object  of  pilgrimage  to  the  pious  colonists  of 
Villemarie. 

The  next  year  new  recruits  came  from  France, 
and  some  progress  was  made  in  converting  the 
Indians.  Quebec  and  Three  Rivers  were  the 
only  other  settlements  in  the  great  valley.  These 
and  the  scattered  missions  had  a  total  white 
population  of  scarcely  more  than  three  hundred 
souls,  and  comprised  the  whole  of  New  France. 
None  of  the  river  settlements  were  safe  from 
Indian  forays,  and  Montreal  was  particularly 
exposed.  It  was  an  outpost  almost  in  the  path 
of  the  war  parties,  and  in  1643  those  human 
wolves  of  the  forest,  the  Iroquois,  discovered  the 
new  village.  Thenceforth  its  inhabitants  had 
no  peace.  The  men  were  obliged  to  go  armed 
to  their  work,  and  they  returned  at  the  sound  of 
a  bell,  marching  in  compact  order  prepared  for 
an  attack. 

Three  of  a  party  of  six  who  were  hewing  tim- 
ber within  gunshot  of  the  fort  were  killed  and 
the  rest  taken  prisoners.  One  of  these  prisoners 
later  escaped,  but  the  other  two  were  burned 
alive.  Sometimes  a  solitary  savage  skulking  in 
the  woodland  terrorized  the  community,  and 
again  a  hundred  or  more  warriors  hovered  in 
the  vicinity. 


8o       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

A  number  of  dogs  that  were  brought  from 
France  proved  a  great  aid  in  scenting  the 
presence  of  foes.  Chief  among  these  was  a 
female  named  Pilot,  who  every  morning  made  it 
her  habit  to  go  the  rounds  of  the  adjacent 
fields  and  forest  with  a  troop  of  her  offspring  at 
her  heels.  When  she  detected  any  of  the  Iro- 
quois she  set  up  a  furious  barking  and  the  entire 
squad  of  dogs  ran  pell-mell  to  the  fort. 

On  the  morning  of  March  30,  1644,  Pilot  and 
her  followers  came  running  over  the  clearing 
from  the  eastward,  all  giving  tongue  together 
with  unusual  vehemence.  The  men  in  the  fort 
wanted  to  go  to  the  woods  and  see  if  the  enemy 
was  really  there.  Maisonneuve,  who  had  taken 
care  to  avoid  risks  in  the  past  to  a  degree  that 
made  some  of  his  soldiers  murmur  and  hint  that 
he  lacked  courage,  now  responded  that  they 
might  make  ready  and  he  would  lead  them  him- 
self. When  preparations  were  complete,  thirty 
men  left, the  fort  and  betook  themselves  to  the 
forest,  wading  cautiously  along  through  the 
deep  snow  until  they  were  greeted  with  the 
screeches  of  a  numerous  body  of  Iroquois  who 
sprang  up  from  their  lurking  places  and  show- 
ered the  French  with  bullets  and  arrows. 


The  Place  d'  Amies  and  Notre  Dame  Cathedral 


Early  Monti  eal  8i 

Maisonneuve  ordered  his  men  to  shelter  them- 
selves behind  the  trees,  and  there  they  made  a 
resolute  defence  for  a  long  time;  but  the  Iro- 
quois were  creeping  closer,  three  of  the  whites 
were  already  killed,  several  were  wounded,  and 
their  ammunition  was  failing.  A  retreat  was 
begun,  steady  at  first,  but  gradually  becoming 
confused  through  the  eagerness  of  the  men  to 
escape  from  the  galling  fire  of  the  Indians.  The 
commandant  remained  at  the  rear,  aiding  the 
wounded  and  encouraging  the  others  of  his 
party,  who  from  time  to  time  paused  to  fire  back 
and  check  the  pursuit.  When  they  presently 
got  to  a  sledge  track  where  the  snow  was  firm 
underfoot  the  men  could  restrain  their  terror 
no  longer,  and  they  ran  in  a  body  for  the  fort. 

Maisonneuve  was  left  alone,  retreating  back- 
ward and  holding  his  pursuers  in  check  with  a 
pistol  in  each  hand.  The  chief  of  the  savages 
made  a  dash  at  the  Frenchman,  hoping  to  take 
him  prisoner.  Maisonneuve  snapped  his  pistol 
at  him,  but  it  missed  fire.  The  Iroquois  had, 
however,  paused  a  moment,  and  as  he  again 
sprang  forward  Maisonneuve  with  his  remain- 
ing pistol  shot  him  dead.  In  the  confusion  that 
followed,  the  French  commander  reached  the 
shelter  of  the  fort  in  safety.    The  spot  where  he 


82       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

fired  the  shot  that  saved  him  is  now  known,  in 
commemoration  of  his  deed,  as  the  Place 
d'  Armes,  and  is  a  small  park  in  front  of  the  great 
Notre  Dame  Cathedral  in  the  heart  of  the  city. 

Montreal  grew  slowly  and  in  1659  it  consisted 
of  about  forty  small  dwellings  ranged  parallel 
to  the  river,  a  little  back  from  the  waterside. 
On  the  left  was  a  fort,  and  on  rising  ground  at 
the  right  was  a  massive  stone  windmill  enclosed 
with  a  palisade  pierced  for  musketry,  and  an- 
swering the  purpose  of  a  block-house.  From 
the  borders  of  the  hamlet,  fields  studded  with 
charred  and  blackened  stumps,  between  which 
crops  were  growing,  stretched  away  to  the  edges 
of  the  neighboring  forest,  and  a  mile  away  rose 
the  grim,  shaggy  Mount  Royal.  The  laborers 
always  carried  their  guns  to  the  fields,  and  often 
had  need  to  use  them.  There  was,  however,  no 
important  affray  in  the  vicinity  until  1689  when 
the  great  Indian  massacre  at  Lachine  occurred. 

Anxiety  lest  there  should  be  other  assaults 
by  the  savages  long  continued,  and  the  very 
next  year  it  was  reported  that  Lake  St.  Louis  was 
all  covered  with  canoes  coming  down  the  river. 
The  people  of  Montreal  were  much  startled, 
cannon  were  fired  to  call  in  the  troops  from  the 
detached  posts,  and  the  wildest  excitement  pre- 


Early  Montreal  83 

vailed  until  it  was  learned  that  the  canoes  con- 
veyed friends,  not  enemies.  The  Indians  were 
from  the  upper  lakes  and  were  coming  to  market 
with  their  beaver  skins.  For  several  years  they 
had  done  their  trading  with  the  English,  but 
reports  of  English  and  Iroquois  defeats  had 
made  them  turn  again  to  the  French.  They  all 
descended  the  rapids  and  landed  near  the  town, 
and  a  few  days  later  another  large  fleet  of  fur- 
laden  canoes,  manned  by  French  traders, 
arrived.  Never  had  Canada  experienced  such 
an  inflow  of  wealth. 

The  Indians  painted,  greased  and  befeathered 
themselves,  and  then  mustered  for  the  grand 
council  that  always  preceded  the  opening  of  the 
market.  Frontenac,  at  that  time  governor  of 
New  France,  was  present,  and  roused  the 
savages  to  enthusiasm  by  taking  a  hatchet, 
brandishing  it  in  the  air  and  singing  a  war- 
song.  The  principal  Frenchmen  who  were  with 
him  followed  his  example,  and  the  whole  as- 
sembly fell  to  stamping  and  screeching  like 
madmen. 

Then  came  a  solemn  war-feast.  Two  oxen  and 
six  large  dogs  had  been  chopped  to  pieces  for 
the  occasion,  and  boiled  with  a  quantity  of 
prunes;  and  there  was  wine  and  an  abundance 


84       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

of  tobacco.  Both  whites  and  Indians  agreed  to 
wage  war  to  the  death  on  the  Iroquois  and 
English.  Scarcely  was  the  feast  over  when 
reports  came  of  a  hostile  English  expedition 
coming  down  the  Richelieu  from  Lake  Cham- 
plain.  Preparations  were  made  to  meet  this 
force,  but  the  days  passed  and  the  enemy  did  not 
appear.  Frontenac  concluded  that  they  had 
been  needlessly  alarmed,  and  the  Indians,  who 
would  delay  their  homeward  voyage  no  longer, 
were  dismissed  with  ample  presents.  But  soon 
afterward  cannon  were  heard  booming  on  the 
opposite  shore.  The  settlement  of  La  Prairie  had 
been  attacked  by  a  raiding  party  of  twenty-nine 
whites  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  Indians. 
A  guard  of  French  soldiers  at  La  Prairie  was 
assisting  the  inhabitants  to  reap  in  the  wheat- 
fields.  Twenty-five  were  killed  or  captured, 
many  cattle  were  destroyed,  and  houses  and 
barns  and  hayricks  burned. 

This  much  done,  the  invaders  sat  down  in  the 
woods  to  eat  dinner,  while  cannon  answered 
cannon  from  Chambly  and  Montreal  and  the 
fort  at  La  Prairie.  The  English  were  not  in  the 
least  frightened  by  all  this  noise.  Indeed,  they 
seemed  to  find  it  entertaining,  for  the  com- 
mander in  describing  the  experience  wrote  that: 


At  the  entrance  to  the  L'lchme  Canal 


Early  Montreal  85 

"We  thanked  the  Governor  of  Canada  for  his 
salute  of  heavy  artillery  during  our  meal." 

The  expedition,  as  originally  planned,  con- 
templated the  capture  of  Montreal,  but  mis- 
management ruined  it  almost  at  the  start,  and 
only  this  handful  attempted  to  go  to  Canada. 
Nor  v^as  their  success  of  any  actual  advantage. 
The  blow  they  dealt  v^^as,  in  fact,  less  an  injury 
to  the  French  than  an  insult. 

It  was  the  Indians,  rather  than  the  English, 
who  were  the  real  scourge  of  Canada;  but  the 
savages  suffered  such  serious  reverses  themselves 
in  their  warfare  against  the  French  that  more 
than  once  them  made  overtures  for  peace.  The 
whites  were  quite  ready  to  cease  hostilities  on 
condition  that  the  savages  should  return  their 
captives,  and  in  1700  a  deputation  of  Iroquois 
warriors  came  to  Montreal  and  delivered  up 
thirteen  prisoners.  There  were  other  French 
captives  in  their  villages,  but  these  had  become 
attached  to  Indian  life  and  would  not  leave  it. 
After  some  palaver  peace  was  made,  and  the 
Governor  of  the  colony  said:  "I  bury  the 
hatchet  in  a  deep  hole,  and  over  the ,  hole 
I  place  a  great  rock,  and  over  the  rock  I  turn 
a  river,  that  the  hatchet  may  never  be  dug  up 
again." 


86       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

To  confirm  the  treaty  a  grand  council  of  all 
concerned  met  in  Montreal  the  next  year.  The 
Iroquois  and  the  western  and  northern  Indians 
came  down  the  river  in  hundreds  of  canoes  and 
were  greeted  by  a  salute  of  cannon.  A  great 
quantity  of  evergreen  boughs  had  been  gathered 
for  their  use,  and  of  these  they  made  their  wig- 
wams outside  the  palisades.  When  the  confer- 
ence began  one  great  difficulty  was  encountered. 
Both  the  Iroquois  and  the  other  Indians,  their 
enemies,  who  were  the  allies  of  the  French,  had 
many  prisoners  they  had  captured  from  each 
other,  and  it  had  been  agreed  that  these  should 
be  brought  to  the  council  for  a  general  exchange. 
But  only  the  allies  had  complied,  and  they  were 
greatly  incensed  at  the  failure  of  the  Iroquois  to 
do  as  they  had  done.  Their  leader,  a  chief 
known  as  "The  Rat,"  though  so  weakened  by 
fever  that  he  could  not  stand,  made  a  two-hour 
speech  to  the  assembly,  seated  in  an  arm-chair. 
When  the  meeting  ended,  he  was  completely 
exhausted,  and  he  died  that  night. 

The  French  charged  themselves  with  the 
funeral  rites.  On  a  robe  of  beaver  skin,  in  his 
wigwam,  the  dead  chief  lay  in  state  swathed  in  a 
scarlet  blanket,  with  a  kettle,  a  gun  and  a  sword 
at  his  side  to  be  buried  with  him  for  his  use  in 


Early  Montreal  87 

the  world  of  spirits.  Though  the  Iroquois  were 
his  deadliest  foes,  sixty  of  them  came  in  solemn 
procession,  ranged  themselves  around  his  bier 
and  one  of  them  delivered  an  eulogy  in  which 
he  declared  that  the  sun  had  covered  its  face 
that  day  in  grief  for  the  great  Huron.  When  he 
was  buried  an  escort  of  troops  led  the  funeral 
train,  followed  by  sixteen  Huron  warriors  clad 
in  robes  of  beaver  skin,  marching  by  fours  with 
blackened  faces  and  guns  reversed.  Then  came 
the  clergy,  and  next  six  war-chiefs  carrying  the 
coffin.  It  was  decorated  with  flowers,  and  on 
it  lay  a  plumed  hat,  a  sword  and  a  gorget. 
Behind  it  came  numerous  other  warriors  and 
French  military  officers.  After  the  service  the 
soldiers  fired  three  volleys  over  the  grave.  All 
this  ceremony  pleased  the  Indians  and  helped 
to  a  final  agreement  with  regard  to  the  articles 
of  peace. 

The  fourth  of  August  was  named  for  the  grand 
council.  A  vast  oblong  space  on  a  plain  near 
the  town  was  enclosed  with  a  fence  of  branches. 
Troops  were  stationed  along  the  sides,  and  at 
one  end  was  a  canopy  of  boughs  under  which 
there  were  seats  filled  by  ladies,  officials,  and  the 
chief  inhabitants  of  Montreal.  The  governor 
sat  in  front  surrounded  by  interpreters,  and  the 


88       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Indians,  more  than  thirteen  hundred  in  number, 
were  seated  on  the  grass  around  the  open  space. 
The  savages  were  painted  with  divers  hues  and 
patterns,  and  wore  their  dress  of  ceremony — 
leathern  shirts  that  were  fringed  with  scalp-locks, 
and  colored  blankets  or  robes  of  bison  hide  and 
beaver  skin,  while  their  heads  bristled  with 
crests  of  hair,  eagle  feathers,  or  antlers. 

The  governor  made  a  speech  and  a  representa- 
tive of  each  of  the  thirty-one  tribes  which  had 
members  present  responded.  Then  the  peace 
pipe  was  passed  around,  and  the  treaty  was  duly 
signed,  each  tribal  representative  affixing  his 
mark  in  the  shape  of  some  bird,  beast,  fish  or 
other  object. 

With  the  passing  years  Indian  aggressions 
became  increasingly  rare;  but  the  savages  as 
hunters  and  trappers  long  continued  to  be  of 
vital  importance  in  the  material  welfare  of 
Canada.  Early  in  the  eighteenth  century  small 
quantities  of  timber  and  wheat  began  to  be  ex- 
ported, yet  the  country  was  still  chiefly  depend- 
ent on  the  traffic  in  beaver  skins.  To  induce  the 
Indians  to  come  to  the  settlements  annual  fairs 
were  inaugurated  at  Montreal  and  Three  Rivers. 
That  at  the  former  place  was  particularly  im- 
portant, and  on  the  day  following  the  arrival  of 


-^ 


:^ 


Early  Montreal  89 

the  fleet  of  pelt-laden  canoes  a  grand  council  was 
held  on  the  common  between  the  river  and  St. 
Paul  Street.  The  gathering  was  a  strange 
medley  of  Indians,  French  bush-rangers,  greedy 
traders,  priests  and  nuns,  and  officials. 

In  these  years  of  peace  the  town  gradually 
grew  and  in  1760  it  had  nine  thousand  inhabi- 
tants and  was  somewhat  larger  than  Quebec. 
Early  in  September  of  that  year  an  English  ex- 
pedition landed  at  Lachine.  It  had  come  down 
the  river,  and  in  running  the  rapids  no  less  than 
forty-six  of  its  boats  had  been  totally  wrecked, 
and  nearly  a  hundred  men  drowned.  But  this 
was  far  from  crippling  it,  and  the  invaders  were 
soon  encamped  before  the  town  walls.  Montreal 
was  at  that  time  a  long  narrow  assemblage  of 
wooden  and  stone  houses,  churches  and  convents, 
surrounded  by  a  bastioned  stone  wall  made  for 
defence  against  Indians,  but  incapable  of  re- 
sisting cannon.  The  town  was  crowded  with 
refugees,  and  could  muster  only  about  twenty- 
five  hundred  defenders  while  the  English  forces 
in  the  vicinity  numbered  seventeen  thousand. 
To  fight  would  plainly  be  a  waste  of  life,  and 
the  place  capitulated.  The  English  had  overrun 
the  rest  of  the  valley  and  all  of  Canada  now 
became  a  possession  of  the  British  Crown. 


90       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

France  did  not  lose  its  colony  with  unalloyed 
regret;  for  there  were  those  to  whom  it  did  not 
seem  altogether  desirable.  Voltaire,  writing  a 
year  or  two  previous,  said:  "France  and  Eng- 
land are  at  war  for  several  acres  of  snow,  and 
are  spending  in  the  fight  more  than  the  whole 
of  Canada  is  worth."  In  the  same  vein,  at 
another  time,  he  described  the  country  as  "cov- 
ered with  snow  and  ice  for  eight  months  of  the 
year,  and  inhabited  by  barbarians,  bears  and 
beavers." 

Similar  feeling  was  voiced  by  Madame  la 
Pompadour  who.  when  it  was  learned  that 
Quebec  had  been  taken,  is  reported  to  have 
exclaimed  with  decidedly  more  elation  than 
regret:  "At  last  the  king  will  be  able  to  sleep 
peacefully." 

For  good  or  for  ill  France  was  no  more  to 
control  the  destiny  of  "My  Lady  of  the  Snows," 
as  Canada  is  sometimes  called.  The  domain 
that  passed  into  English  hands  was  of  tremen- 
dous extent,  yet  after  all  it  had  only  a  population 
of  seventy  thousand  at  this  time.  Seldom  has 
a  vanquished  country  been  treated  with  more 
consideration  and  generosity.  Free  exercise  of 
religion  was  assured  to  the  people,  and  they 
were  to  remain  in  full  enjoyment  of  their  prop 


Early  Montreal  91 

erty,  including  negro  and  Indian  slaves.  But  a 
good  many  of  the  old  patrician  families  would 
not  change  their  allegiance  and  removed  to 
France.  This  was  a  great  loss  to  the  St.  Lawrence 
country.  However,  their  places  were  gradually 
filled  by  emigrants  from  England,  Scotland  and 
Ireland,  and  there  was  an  ever-rising  tide  of  thrift 
and  prosperity. 


THE    MONTREAL   OF   TODAY 

AyTONTREAL,  with  its  population  of  four 
-'-*-'-  hundred  thousand,  is  the  financial  and 
manufacturing  metropoHs  of  the  dominion. 
Yet  it  is  only  comparatively  recently  that  it 
became  one  of  the  great  American  cities.  As 
late  as  1810  it  had  no  more  than  twelve  thousand 
inhabitants,  and  it  did  not  pass  the  hundred 
thousand  mark  until  1870.  The  secret  of  its 
growth  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  occupies  the  center 
of  a  fertile  plain  nearly  as  large  as  England  and 
stands  at  the  head  of  ocean  navigation.  Its 
advantages  as  a  distributing  point  make  it 
Canada's  chief  port.  Formerly  its  harbor  was 
inaccessible  to  vessels  drawing  more  than  eleven 
feet  of  water  on  account  of  shallows  down  the 
river,  but  about  1850  the  channel  was  deepened 
by  dredging  to  twenty-seven  feet,  and  the  largest 
ships  from  the  Atlantic  can  now  come  directly 
to  its  piers.  Probably  most  people  do  not 
realize  that  Montreal  is  three  hundred  miles 
nearer  to  Liverpool  than  is  New  York,  and  one- 
third  of  the  whole  distance  to  Europe  is  by  way 


The  Montreal  of  Today  93 

of  the  smooth  waters  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  The 
river,  however,  is  closed  to  navigation  from  the 
end  of  November  to  the  beginning  of  April. 

Montreal  is  on  an  island  of  the  same  name, 
and  this  island  is  thirty-two  miles  long  and  from 
six  to  ten  miles  wide.  By  far  the  greater  part  of 
the  river  flows  to  the  south  of  it,  and  the  city 
extends  from  the  busy  wharves  with  their  great 
warehouses  and  steamers  and  lesser  craft  back 
to  the  steep  wooded  sides  of  Mount  Royal.  The 
population  is  constantly  becoming  more  cosmo- 
politan, yet  more  than  half  of  it  is  still  French. 
It  is  an  attractive  city  in  certain  sections  and 
occasional  spots,  but  as  a  whole  it  impresses  the 
stranger  as  dirty  and  dishevelled.  Buildings 
that  are  dismally  old  and  battered  are  plentiful 
right  in  the  business  center;  and  on  the  outskirts, 
in  most  directions,  you  find  a  helter-skelter  of 
manufactories  with  their  smoke-belching  chim- 
neys and  untidy  surroundings.  But  there  is  no 
questioning  the  charm  of  the  fine  residence  dis- 
trict, or  that  of  the  parks,  or  the  attractiveness 
of  many  of  the  city  buildings  to  which  age  or 
noble  architecture,  often  combined  with  im- 
pressive size,  lend  distinction. 

In  historic  interest  the  structure  that  excels 
all  others  is  the  Chateau  de  Ramezay,  built  by 


94       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Claude  de  Ramezay,  Governor  of  Montreal,  in 
1705.  Its  age,  its  association  with  important 
events  and  its  quiet  and  massive  dignity  combine 
to  make  it  a  fascinating  landmark.  From  the 
crest  of  the  hill  on  which  it  stands  a  little  back 
from  the  river,  the  chateau  used  to  command  a 
wide  view  of  the  stream  in  both  directions.  But 
this  view  is  curtailed  now  by  tall  buildings  that 
crowd  around  the  old  mansion.  In  front  is  a 
narrow  grassy  yard  with  two  or  three  old  cannon 
on  the  sward,  and  this  yard  is  separated  from 
the  busy  street  by  an  iron  fence  with  sturdy 
stone  gateposts.  The  walls  of  the  chateau  are 
fully  two  feet  thick,  there  are  turrets  at  the  cor- 
ners and  dormer  windows  in  its  broad,  low- 
reaching  roof.  In  the  days  of  its  glory  it  doubt- 
less ranked  as  palatial.  Within  its  venerable 
walls,  after  the  fall  of  Quebec,  in  1760,  arrange- 
ments were  completed  for  the  withdrawal  of  the 
last  French  garrison  from  Montreal,  by  which 
act  the  finest  colony  of  France  became  the 
possession  of  England.  The  chateau  was  then 
in  the  heart  of  the  most  fashionable  and  im- 
portant part  of  the  town,  and  for  years  after  the 
British  conquest  it  was  the  official  residence  of 
the  English  governors. 

At    the    time    of  the    American    invasion    of 


The  Montreal  of  Today  95 

Canada,  early  in  the  Revolution,  three  commis- 
sioners representing  the  rebelling  colonies  were 
sent  to  Montreal  to  attempt  to  win  over  the 
people  of  this  northern  realm  to  the  American 
cause.  They  held  their  councils  in  the  Chateau 
de  Ramezay,  which  was  the  headquarters  of  the 
invading  army.  One  of  the  commissioners  was 
Benjamin  Franklin.  In  order  to  prepare  printed 
matter  for  distribution  he  brought  with  him  a 
printer  named  Mesplat,  for  there  was  no  printer 
in  Montreal  at  that  time.  Mesplat's  type  cases 
and  hand  press  were  given  space  in  the  basement 
of  the  chateau  and  there  he  did  his  work.  The 
approach  of  a  hostile  force  put  the  commissioners 
to  flight,  but  Mesplat  remained  in  Montreal 
where  he  soon  afterward  began  to  publish  the 
weekly  Gazette,  a  newspaper  still  issued,  and 
the  oldest  in  this  part  of  Canada. 

In  1778  the  chateau  became  the  property  of 
the  British  Government,  and  in  the  century  and 
more  following  it  served  various  purposes.  For 
a  while  it  was  the  government  headquarters,  and 
there  was  a  time  when  it  housed  a  normal  school, 
and  for  another  period  was  in  use  for  a  medical 
branch  of  Laval  University,  and  it  also  did  duty 
as  an  annex  to  the  court  house.  Finally  it  came 
nto    possession    of  the    Montreal    Antiquarian 


96       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Society,  and  it  today  shelters  what  is  perhaps  the 
finest  collection  of  historical  works,  portraits, 
and  other  relics  in  the  country.  Could  anyone 
wish  it  a  more  appropriate  fate  ? 

I  was  interested  in  the  quaint  old  rooms  and 
their  abounding  memorials  of  the  past,  and  I 
was  no  less  interested  in  certain  comments  of 
one  of  the  woman  guardians  of  the  treasures 
who  criticised  in  a  sociable  and  friendly  way  the 
Americans  who  visited  the  chateau.  "I  never 
saw  such  people  for  hurrying,"  said  she.  "They 
drive  to  the  chateau  in  their  carriages  and  jump 
out  and  run  through  here  as  if  they  were  going 
to  a  house  a-fire.  I  sometimes  ask  if  the  Old 
Nick  is  after  them.  What  good  do  they  get 
from  such  a  hasty  glimpse  of  the  things  we  have 
here  ?  If  I  was  them  I  wouldn't  take  the  trouble 
to  get  out  of  the  carriages.  Of  course  there  are 
a  few  not  quite  so  rapid.  I  remember  one  man 
who  stopped  to  look  at  the  picture  post  cards  we 
have  to  sell,  and  he  picked  up  one  with  the 
Victoria  Bridge  on  it,  and  says:  Ts  that  the 
bridge  I  crossed  coming  into  Montreal  from 
America  ?' 

"And  where  do  you  think  you  are  now  but 
in  America  ?'  I  said. 


The  river  road  on  Montreal  Island 


The  Montreal  of  Today  97 

"Your  people  have  an  idea  that  the  United 
States  is  all  there  is  to  the  whole  continent.  I 
think  they  do  not  study  geography  enough  in 
your  schools." 

"I  have  been  in  New  England.  Many  peo- 
ple from  Canada  are  living  in  the  mill  towns 
there.  Once  I  was  in  a  manufacturing  place  in 
Connecticut  and  rode  in  an  electric  car.  It  was 
crowded  with  men,  women  and  children — and 
yet  they  spoke  not  a  word  of  English — nothing 
but  French.  'Great  Scott!'  I  said,  'what  a  lot 
of  Canadians  there  are  here!  Have  I  got  into 
Montreal  without  my  knowledge  ?'  They  were 
all  my  compatriots.  Every  man  Jack  of  'em 
was  a  Canadian." 

On  the  square  in  front  of  the  neighboring 
court  house  formerly  stood  the  town  pillory,  and 
here,  in  1696,  four  Iroquois  were  burned  by 
order  of  Count  Frontenac  in  reprisal  for  similar 
barbarism  on  the  part  of  the  Indians. 

Close  by,  within  sight  of  the  serene  and  stout 
old  chateau,  is  the  chief  city  market.  It  is  a 
perfect  babel  on  market  days.  The  country 
people  are  there  from  all  the  region  around  with 
their  wagon  loads  of  produce;  and  thither  resort 
their  customers,  both  dealers  and  private  buyers. 
They   are   sure   to   dispose   of  everything   they 


98       The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

bring  and  never  have  left-over  produce  to  carry 
home.  Toward  the  close  of  the  day,  if  a  man 
has  not  sold  out,  he  may  have  to  sacrifice  some- 
thing on  price,  but  the  best  of  his  load  has  been 
disposed  of  and  he  can  afford  to  take  less  for 
what  remains.  The  most  interesting  portion  of 
the  market  is  not  inside  of  the  great  buildings, 
but  in  the  open  of  a  wide  street  on  the  hillside 
below  the  Nelson  monument.  There  the  wagons 
back  up  against  a  broad  walk  that  affords  a 
chance  to  partially  remove  their  loads  for  the 
purpose  of  display  and  still  leave  a  passage  along 
the  middle  of  the  walk  for  customers. 

A  few  blocks  distant,  on  the  hill,  is  the  Place 
d'Armes,  a  little  park  now  hemmed  in  by  the 
city  but  which  was  the  scene  of  a  desperate  battle 
with  the  Indians  in  the  days  of  the  first  settlers. 
Facing  it  on  the  south  side  is  the  Cathedral  of 
Notre  Dame,  with  its  two  lofty  towers.  In  the 
west  tower  hangs  the  Gros  Bourdon,  one  of  the 
five  largest  bells  in  the  world.  It  weighs  twelve 
tons.  In  the  other  tower  hangs  a  chime  of  bells, 
second  to  none  in  the  northland.  The  church 
itself  can  easily  contain  over  ten  thousand  wor- 
shippers, and  the  only  church  on  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic  which  exceeds  it  in  capacity  is  the 
famous  cathedral  in  the  city  of  Mexico.     With 


The  Montreal  of  1  oday  yy 

the  city  crowding  close  around  it,  the  immensity 
of  the  building  is  not  readily  realized,  though 
the  town  vapors  make  the  twin  towers  loom 
marvellously.  In  the  dim  quiet  of  the  vast 
interior,  after  the  eyes  become  accustomed  to 
the  twilight,  you  see  that  walls  and  ceiling  and 
pillars,  as  well  as  all  the  furnishings  are  gorge- 
ously decorated.  The  abundance  of  color  is 
perhaps  rather  florid,  yet  it  is  not  without  an 
oriental  richness  that  is  quite  satisfying. 

There  is  a  curious  superstition  that  at  the 
point  where  St.  Sulpice  and  Notre  Dame  Streets 
meet,  close  by  the  towering  cathedral,  the  wind 
is  always  blowing.  The  situation  is  naturally 
breezy;  but  there  is  a  miraculous  explanation 
of  the  phenomenon  that  is  far  more  interesting 
than  any  scientific  demonstration  as  to  whys  and 
wherefores.  It  seems  that  one  day,  while  the 
church  was  in  process  of  building,  the  Wind 
and  the  Devil  were  walking  down  Notre  Dame 
Street;  and  the  Devil  after  regarding  with  a 
frown  of  disapproval  the  graceful  outlines  of  the 
new  edifice  rising  before  him  exclaimed:  "What 
is  this  ?    I  never  saw  it  before." 

"Very  likely  not,"  responded  the  Wind,  "and 
I  dare  you  to  go  in  there." 


100     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

"You  dare  me  to  do  that,  do  you  ?"  cried  the 
Devil  with  a  sneer.  "Well,  I  will  go  in  if  you 
will  promise  to  wait  here  until  I  come  out." 

"Agreed,"  said  the  Wind. 

So  his  Satanic  Majesty  went  in.  But  he  has 
not  come  out  yet,  and  the  Wind  is  still  waiting 
for  him  at  the  corner. 

Another  church  of  notable  size  that  the 
stranger  should  not  fail  to  see  is  the  dome-sur- 
mounted edifice  of  St.  James'  Cathedral,  mod- 
elled after  St.  Peter's  at  Rome.  I  have  named 
only  the  two  largest  churches;  but  the  leisurely 
visitor  will  find  these  far  from  being  the  only 
ones  that  appeal  to  his  interest;  for  places  of 
worship  abound  to  such  a  degree  that  Montreal 
has  become  known  as  "The  City  of  Churches." 
Many  of  the  edifices  are  impressively  large,  and 
the  architecture  of  their  spires,  towers  or  domes 
is  so  varied  as  to  give  each  church  an  interesting 
individuality  and  distinction. 

A  building  of  another  sort  which  persons  from 
the  States  will  find  of  interest  is  the  plain, 
antiquated  warehouse  in  Vaudreuil  Lane  where 
John  Jacob  Astor  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
Astor  millions. 

Of  all  the  Montreal  structures,  probably  none 
is  so  widely  known  as  the  Victoria  Bridge,  the 


The  Montreal  of  Today  loi 

chief  approach  to  the  city  from  the  south.  I 
think  most  persons  are  a  little  disappointed  in 
the  actuality.  Its  resounding  name  is  suggestive 
of  a  graceful  stateliness,  but  it  is  simply  a  criss- 
crossing of  iron  beams  resting  on  monotonous 
stone  piers,  and  its  chief  claim  to  distinction  is 
its  great  length  of  a  mile  and  a  quarter.  There 
are  twenty-five  spans.  The  original  bridge  was 
completed  in  1859,  and  the  present  one,  which 
represents  a  cost  of  twenty  million  dollars,  was 
finished  in  1899.  It  occupies  the  same  piers  as 
the  older  structure  and  was  put  in  place  without 
interfering  with  the  traffic.  In  the  middle  is  a 
span  three  hundred  and  thirty  feet  long,  but 
the  others  are  about  a  hundred  feet  less. 

On  a  clear  day  you  get  from  the  bridge  a 
striking  panoramic  view  of  the  city  with  Mount 
Royal  as  a  background.  But  a  still  better  view 
of  the  place  can  be  had,  a  little  below  from 
Helen's  Isle,  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  the  city 
parks.  This  island,  the  name  of  which  perpetu- 
ates that  of  Champlain's  young  wife,  was  pur- 
chased with  her  money  by  her  famous  husband. 
Somewhat  later  it  was  for  a  long  period  a  French 
military  station.  To  this  island  Marquis  de 
Levis,  the  last  commander  of  a  French  army  in 
New  France,  retired  and  burned  his  flags  in  the 


102     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

presence  of  his  troops  on  the  night  before  the 
surrender  of  the  colony  to  Great  Britain.  Here, 
beneath  a  "weeping  elm,"  he  signed  the  articles 
of  capitulation. 

There  is  much  fine  farming  land  in  the  out- 
lying region  neighboring  Montreal,  and  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  drive  or  ramble  amid  the  apple 
orchards,  smooth  pastures  and  hay  fields  and 
the  plots  devoted  to  vegetables,  small  fruits, 
corn  and  oats.  To  my  thinking  the  farm  en- 
vironment is  seen  at  its  best  on  the  lower  road  to 
Lachine.  The  outreaching  of  the  suburbs  has 
made  chaos  for  the  first  few  miles  of  the  road, 
but  beyond  is  a  tranquil,  tree-bordered  rural 
thoroughfare  winding  along  the  river  shore,  and 
worthy  even  of  Paradise.  Graceful  elms  and 
stalwart  Lombardy  poplars  and  the  delicate- 
foliaged  willows  are  the  prevailing  trees.  They 
only  partially  screen  the  river  from  sight  and 
allow  frequent  and  enchanting  views  of  the 
broad,  swift  stream.  There  is  a  constant  suc- 
cession of  homes  along  the  way,  some  of  them 
almost  at  the  waterside.  The  people  seemed  to 
have  no  fear  of  ravaging  floods.  On  the  bank 
of  most  streams,  so  little  above  the  ordinary 
level  of  the  current,  the  buildings  could  not  exist 
for  a  single  year.    The  flow  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 


The  Montreal  of  Today  103 

however,  is  largely  equalized  by  its  vast  inland 
reservoirs,  the  Great  Lakes.  In  June  the  melt- 
ing snov7s  of  the  far  north  bring  the  river  up 
about  six  feet,  but  the  stream  can  be  depended 
on  not  to  validly  exceed  its  usual  limits,  and  the 
people  for  the  most  part  dvv^ell  in  safety  and 
peace  of  mind  alongside.  The  only  exceptions 
are  those  who  occupy  certain  positions  that  are 
unduly  exposed  to  the  ice  when  it  breaks  up  in 
the  spring. 

Until  recently  one  of  the  attractions  of  this 
lower  road  was  the  quaint  old  stone  house  in 
which  La  Salle  used  to  live.  Even  after  it  be- 
came a  ruin  it  was  still  interesting,  but  of  late 
its  walls  have  been  demolished  to  make  fencing 
for  the  too  thrifty  owner  of  the  property,  and 
only  weed-grown  remnants  remain.  Another 
relic  of  the  past  is  a  windmill  not  far  beyond  the 
La  Salle  ruin;  but  it  has  lost  its  arms  and  is  a 
mere  stump  in  a  brushy  clump  of  trees.  How- 
ever, buildings  that  date  back  into  the  stirring 
past  of  the  French  regime  are  not  all  obliterated 
or  ruinous.  Some  of  the  wayside  farmhouses 
and  barns  are  still  essentially  what  they  were 
then,  and  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  gaze  on  their 
stout-walled  simplicity. 


104     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

The  manufacturing  town  of  Lachine  presently 
interrupts  the  vernal  roadway;  but  farther  on 
the  rustic  thoroughfare  resumes  its  winding 
course  with  bordering  farms  and  summer  homes 
and  occasional  toll-gates,  and  idyllic  outlooks 
on  the  wide,  island-dotted  Lake  St.  Louis. 

When  an  opening  in  the  trees  or  a  lift  of  land 
gives  a  view  in  the  other  direction  Mount  Royal's 
sturdy  mass  is  the  dominant  note  in  the  land- 
scape. This  mountain  is  in  reality  the  shoulders 
of  a  volcano  with  the  head  blown  off.  In  pre- 
historic ages  it  belched  forth  molten  floods  and 
wrote  its  daily  history  against  the  sky  in  fire  and 
smoke.  At  that  time  it  stretched  the  whole 
breadth  of  the  island  out  into  the  present  channel 
on  the  south,  while  in  the  other  direction  it 
swept  far  back  toward  the  ancient  Laurentide 
ranges.  The  loftiest  fragment  of  its  dismantled 
body  today  is  Mount  Royal  which  rises  nine 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  and  seven  hundred 
and  forty  above  the  river.  Half  a  thousand 
acres  of  Mount  Royal's  higher  portion  is  a  park 
where  the  forest  is  preserved  for  the  most  part 
in  a  state  of  nature.  The  mountain  rises  very 
steeply  from  behind  the  city,  but  the  crest  of 
the  bluff"  is  easily  reached  by  an  incline  elevator. 
A  more  agreeable  way  of  going  up  and  down. 


b- 


t. 


The  Montreal  of  Today  105 

however,  is  by  the  winding,  shady  drives   and 
paths. 

Cartier  was  the  first  white  man  to  climb  the 
height,  and  on  it  he  planted  a  cross  and  gave 
the  mountain  its  name.  "Therefrom  one  sees 
very  far,"  he  wrote.  The  view  is  strikingly  im- 
pressive. Immediately  below,  the  woodland 
descends  steeply,  and  gradually  merges  into  the 
city  streets.  What  a  vast  array  of  roofs  and 
brick  and  stone  walls,  spires  and  domes  and 
chimneys!  and  you  hear  the  dull  roar  of  the 
multitudinous  traffic  over  the  pavements.  Be- 
yond, the  great  landscape  is  cut  in  twain  by  the 
river.  Otherwise  it  seems  an  almost  unbroken 
plain  to  the  remote  southern  horizon  where 
slumber  ranges  of  shadowy  mountains.  It  is  a 
wonderful  sight — that  wide  level  with  its  varie- 
gated fields  and  woodlands  and  its  dappling  of 
blue  cloud  shadows;  and  its  charm  is  probably 
fully  as  great  today  as  when  Cartier  looked  down 
on  the  scene  from  this  same  spot. 


VI 


THE    OTTAWA 


JUST  above  the  Island  of  Montreal  the  brown 
waters  of  the  Ottawa  join  the  clear  green 
flood  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  for  many  miles 
the  two  flow  side  by  side  with  apparently  no 
tendency  to  intermingle.  The  Ottawa  is  itself 
a  river  of  noble  proportions,  and  from  its  junction 
with  the  St.  Lawrence  for  a  long  distance  up  is 
so  broad  that  this  portion  of  it  is  called  a  lake — 
the  Lake  of  the  Two  Mountains. 

The  first  white  person  to  go  up  the  river  was 
a  young  man  from  Champlain's  little  colony  in 
Quebec,  who  in  1610  accompanied  a  party  of 
Indians  to  their  home  near  the  headwaters  and 
wintered  with  them.  The  next  year  another 
young  man,  Nicolas  de  Vignau,  did  likewise  and 
returned  at  the  end  of  a  twelve-month  with  a  tale 
of  having  found  a  passage  through  to  the  north- 
ern seas;  "for  he  was  the  most  impudent  liar 
that  has  been  seen  for  many  a  day,"  says  Cham- 
plain.  But  this  comment  on  the  adventurer's 
character  was  only  made  after  Champlain  had 


The  Ottawa  107 

personally  tested  the  accuracy  of  his  statements. 
At  first  his  story  was  accepted  for  truth  and  it 
was  thought  that  the  long-sought  route  to  Asia 
had  at  last  been  revealed.  So,  in  1613,  Cham- 
plain  sailed  up  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Montreal, 
and  starting  from  there  with  five  companions  in 
two  canoes  he  set  forth  to  explore  the  Ottawa. 
One  of  his  party  was  an  Indian,  and  another 
was  Nicolas  de  Vignau. 

They  advanced  up  the  Lake  of  the  Two  Moun- 
tains, and  kept  on  till  the  rapids  of  Carillon 
checked  their  course.  So  dense  and  tangled  was 
the  bordering  forest  that  they  had  to  trail  the 
canoes  along  the  bank  with  cords,  or  push  them 
by  main  force  up  the  current.  In  the  smoother 
water  above  they  met  some  canoes  of  friendly 
Indians.  One  of  their  number  agreed  to  go  on 
with  Champlain,  while  the  most  awkward  of 
the  Frenchmen  went  down  the  river  with  them. 
Day  after  day  the  explorers  paddled  steadily 
onward,  and  at  length,  a  little  beyond  the  present 
city  of  Ottawa,  they  came  in  sight  of  the  wild 
cataracts  of  Chaudiere  foaming  down  the  rocks 
and  filling  the  region  with  their  hoarse  voice. 
On  the  brink  of  the  plunging  torrent  Cham- 
plain's  two  Indians  took  their  stand,  and  with  a 
loud  invocation  threw  tobacco  into  the  stream. 


io8     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

an  offering  to  the  Manitou  of  the  cataract.  This 
was  a  customary  ceremony  here,  and  was  sup- 
posed to  insure  a  safe  voyage. 

The  party  went  on  with  much  labor  and  scant 
food,  and  sometimes,  as  Champlain  affirmed, 
"plagued  beyond  all  description  by  the  mosqui- 
toes." One  day  they  had  to  carry  through  a 
pine  forest  where  a  tornado  had  passed,  tearing 
up  the  trees  and  piling  them  one  on  another  in 
a  confusion  of  roots,  trunks  and  branches.  At 
last  they  came  to  Muskrat  Lake,  by  the  edge  of 
which  was  an  Indian  settlement.  Here  was  a 
rough  clearing  where  the  trees  had  been  burned; 
but  many  dead,  blackened  trunks  were  still 
standing,  and  the  ground  was  cumbered  with 
stumps  and  charred  fragments.  In  spots,  how- 
ever, the  soil  had  been  feebly  stirred  with  hoes 
of  wood  or  bone  and  a  crop  of  maize  started  that 
was  now  about  four  inches  high. 

When  the  Indians  observed  Champlain's 
canoes  approaching,  they  ran  from  their  scat- 
tered bark  huts  to  the  shore  in  amazement  at 
sight  of  the  white  men,  whom  they  thought  must 
have  fallen  from  the  clouds.  But  they  welcomed 
the  strangers  hospitably  and  soon  had  a  repast 
of  fish  ready  for  them.  Champlain  asked  for  an 
escort  to  guide  him  to  other  Indian  settlements 


The  Ottawa  109 

beyond,  and  his  request  was  granted.  At  length, 
however,  his  journey  was  brought  to  an  end  by 
the  discovery  that  the  Indians  of  the  region  did 
not  agree  with  Vignau  about  the  country  toward 
which  Champlain  was  directing  his  quest  for 
the  passage  to  the  northern  seas.  When  Vignau 
was  confronted  with  their  assertions  he  broke 
down  and  confessed  himself  to  be  an  imposter. 
The  savages  counselled  that  he  should  be  killed 
at  once  for  his  deceit,  and  added:  "Give  him  to 
us,  and  we  promise  you  he  shall  never  lie 
again." 

But  Champlain,  who  now  started  homeward, 
allowed  him  to  return  with  the  rest.  The  French- 
men were  attended  by  a  fleet  of  forty  canoes 
bound  for  Montreal;  and  on  the  way,  while 
encamped  for  the  night  on  an  island,  one  of  the 
Indians  was  visited  with  a  nightmare.  He  leaped 
up  screaming  that  someone  was  killing  him. 
Instantly  all  his  companions  were  on  their  feet, 
and,  fancying  an  attack  was  being  made  by  the 
Iroquois  stampeded  and  ran  splashing  into  the 
water.  They  waded  out  till  it  was  almost  up  to 
their  necks.  Meanwhile  the  Frenchmen  had 
seized  their  guns  and  were  looking  for  the  enemy 
that  had  caused  the  panic.  Their  search  was 
fruitless,    and    they    turned    their    attention    to 


no     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

reassuring  the  warriors  in  the  stream,  who  pres- 
ently waded  ashore. 

When  the  party  reached  Montreal  Champlain 
found  there  a  number  of  his  men.  They  had 
been  hunting  and  revelling  in  a  sylvan  abund- 
ance while  he,  with  much  worry  and  fatigue, 
had  been  making  his  unavailing  search  for  a 
passage  to  China.  Nevertheless,  the  difficulties 
and  disappointments  of  this  trip  did  not  deter 
him  from  going  on  another  expedition  up  the 
Ottawa  two  years  later.  From  the  headwaters 
of  the  river  he  pushed  on  even  as  far  as  Lake 
Huron  and  spent  the  winter  among  the  Indians. 
Not  until  the  middle  of  July  did  he  get  back  to 
Quebec,  and  as  the  Indians  had  reported  that 
he  was  dead,  he  was  welcomed  as  one  risen  from 
the  grave. 

From  the  earliest  advent  of  the  white  man, 
and  the  beginning  of  barter  for  the  furs  of  the 
savages,  the  Ottawa  was  the  main  artery  of 
Canada  for  this  trade.  It  was  therefore  the 
constant  effort  of  the  Iroquois,  who  were  ene- 
mies of  the  Northwestern  tribes  and  usually 
antagonized  the  French  as  well,  to  close  this 
thoroughfare  so  completely  that  the  annual 
supply  of  beaver  skins  would  be  prevented  from 
passing.     They  spent  the   latter  part  of  each 


The  Ottawa  iii 

winter  hunting  in  the  forests  between  the 
Ottawa  and  the  upper  St.  Lawrence,  and,  when 
the  ice  broke  up,  moved  in  large  bands  to  the 
banks  of  the  former  and  lay  in  ambush  at  the 
carries  around  the  Chaudiere  Falls  and  the 
various  rapids.  Many  conflicts  occurred  be- 
tween them  and  the  French,  to  whom  the  fur 
trade  was  almost  the  only  source  of  wealth.  The 
most  notable  of  these  combats  was  one  that  took 
place  in  1660.  Indeed,  the  courageous  self- 
sacrifice  of  the  whites  engaged  is  almost  with- 
out parallel  in  the  bloody  annals  of  Indian 
warfare. 

It  became  known  in  the  spring  of  the  year 
mentioned  that  unusual  numbers  of  Iroquois 
had  wintered  among  the  forests  of  the  Ottawa. 
Evidently  some  mischief  was  on  foot  and  the 
conclusion  was  reached  that  the  settlements  on 
the  St.  Lawrence  were  in  serious  danger.  To 
ward  off  the  impending  assault  a  young  officer 
named  Daulac,  commandant  of  the  garrison  at 
Montreal,  asked  the  governor  of  the  town  for 
leave  to  lead  a  party  of  volunteers  against  the 
enemy.  He  proposed  to  waylay  them  as  they 
descended  the  river,  and  fight,  no  matter  what 
the  disparity  of  force.  After  some  hesitation 
the  governor  gave  his  consent. 


112     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Daulac  was  a  person  of  good  family  who  had 
come  from  France  three  years  before  at  the  age 
of  twenty-two.  It  was  said  that  he  had  been 
involved  in  some  affair  that  had  brought  dis- 
grace on  him,  and  he  was  now  anxious  to  win 
a  new  reputation  by  a  noteworthy  exploit.  He 
invited  other  young  men  of  Montreal  to  join  in 
the  enterprise,  and  sixteen  responded.  They 
bound  themselves  to  accept  no  quarter  and 
made  their  wills;  and  as  they  knelt  to  receive 
the  sacrament  for  the  last  time  before  the  altar 
in  the  chapel  of  the  Hotel  Dieu,  the  population 
of  the  town  gazed  on  them  with  enthusiasm. 
Some  of  the  older  men  begged  them  to  wait  till 
after  the  spring  sowing  that  they  might  join  in 
the  expedition.  But  Daulac  refused.  He  wanted 
both  the  glory  and  the  danger.  The  oldest  of 
his  comrades  was  thirty-one,  the  youngest 
twenty-one. 

After  a  solemn  farewell  they  embarked  in 
several  canoes,  well  supplied  with  arms  and 
ammunition,  and  presently  entered  the  mouth 
of  the  Ottawa  and  went  up  that  broad  expansion 
of  the  river  known  as  the  Lake  of  the  Two 
Mountains.  The  party  had  not  been  long  gone 
from  Montreal  when  some  friendly  Hurons  and 
Algonquins  who  stopped   there  learned   of  the 


i^::  *' 


The  Ottawa  113 

expedition,  and  the  wish  seized  them  to  share  the 
adventure.  They  asked  the  governor  for  a  letter 
recommending  them  to  Daulac,  and  he  compHed 
so  far  as  to  vt^rite  telling  Daulac  to  accept  or 
reject  the  reinforcement  as  he  saw  fit.  So  the 
Indians  embarked  and  paddled  in  pursuit  of 
the  seventeen  Frenchmen. 

Daulac  and  his  companions  had  meanwhile 
passed  with  difficulty  the  swift  current  at  Carillon, 
and  about  May  first  they  reached  the  more  for- 
midable rapid  called  the  Long  Sault.  The  tumult 
of  waters,  foaming  among  ledges  and  boulders 
barred  the  way,  and  it  was  decided  to  fight  the 
enemy  at  this  place.  Just  below  the  rapid, 
where  the  forest  sloped  gently  to  the  shore,  stood 
a  palisaded  fort,  the  work  of  an  Algonquin  war- 
party,  the  previous  autumn.  It  was  among  the 
bushes  and  stumps  of  the  rough  clearing  made 
in  constructing  it,  and  consisted  simply  of  a 
circle  of  small  tree-trunks,  that  was  already 
ruinous.  But  the  Frenchmen  took  possession 
of  it,  and  made  their  fires  and  slung  their  ket- 
tles on  the  neighboring  shore.  Shortly  after- 
ward they  were  joined  by  the  friendly  Hurons 
and  Algonquins,  to  whom  Daulac  apparently 
made  no  objection,  and  they  all  bivouacked 
together. 


114     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

In  a  day  or  two  their  scouts  brought  word  that 
five  Iroquois  in  two  canoes  were  coming  down 
the  rapids.  Daulac  had  time  to  place  some  of 
his  men  in  ambush  at  the  point  where  it  seemed 
Hkely  the  enemy  would  land.  The  canoes  ap- 
proached and  were  greeted  by  a  volley  which 
was  fired  in  too  great  excitement  to  kill  all  the 
warriors.  One  or  more  escaped  into  the  forest 
and  hurried  back  to  relate  their  mischance  to 
the  rest  of  the  party,  two  hundred  in  number,  on 
the  river  above.  Soon  the  entire  fleet  of  canoes 
came  coursing  down  the  rapids,  filled  with 
warriors  eager  for  revenge.  The  allies  had 
barely  time  to  escape  to  the  fort.  They  repulsed 
a  desultory  attack,  and  the  Iroquois  fell  to 
building  a  rude  fortification  that  would  serve 
them  as  a  shelter  in  the  adjacent  forest. 

This  gave  the  French  a  chance  to  strengthen 
their  own  defences.  They  planted  a  row  of 
stakes  within  their  palisade,  leaving  a  space 
between  which  they  filled  with  earth  and  stones 
to  the  height  of  a  man.  About  twenty  loop- 
holes were  made,  at  each  of  which  three  men 
were  stationed.  But  before  this  undertaking  was 
finished  the  Iroquois,  who  had  broken  to  pieces 
the  birch  canoes  of  the  besieged  and  set  fire  to 
the    bark    rushed    up  to  pile  the  blazing  mass 


The  Ottawa  115 

against  the  palisade.  The  brisk  and  steady 
shots  from  the  fort,  however,  drove  them  back. 
For  a  second  time  they  made  a  dash  at  the  fort 
and  again  were  forced  to  retreat,  leaving  many 
of  their  number  wounded  on  the  ground.  Among 
the  fallen  was  the  principal  chief  of  the  Senecas. 
Some  of  the  French  ran  out,  hacked  off  his  head 
and  stuck  it  on  the  palisade,  while  the  Iroquois 
howled  in  helpless  fury.  Another  attack  quickly 
followed  and  was  repulsed. 

This  discouraged  the  enemy  and  they  dis- 
patched a  canoe  to  call  to  their  aid  five  hundred 
warriors  who  were  mustered  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Richelieu.  The  two  parties  had  intended  to 
unite  in  an  attack  on  Montreal,  Three  Rivers 
and  Quebec.  It  was  exasperating  to  have  the 
grand  enterprise  halted  by  a  mere  handful  of  men 
in  a  forest  fort  that  was  no  better  than  a  cattle- 
pen.  For  five  days  and  nights  the  assailants, 
from  behind  trees  and  logs,  beset  the  fort.  The 
allies  fought  and  prayed  by  turns.  Lack  of 
water  was  their  worst  handicap.  Some  of  them 
made  a  sally  to  the  river  and  filled  such  small 
vessels  as  they  had.  Finally  they  dug  a  hole  in 
the  fort  and  were  rewarded  by  a  little  muddy 
water  oozing  through  the  clay. 


ii6     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

The  situation  had  grown  so  harassing  that 
most  of  the  Indian  allies  deserted  to  the  enemy. 
Only  five  remained  firm.  On  the  fifth  day  an 
uproar  of  unearthly  yells  mingled  with  a  clatter- 
ing salute  of  musketry,  proclaimed  the  arrival  of 
reinforcements.  The  five  hundred  had  come 
from  the  Richelieu.  The  crowd  of  warriors  mus- 
tered for  an  attack  and  cautiously  advanced  leap- 
ing from  side  to  side  and  firing  as  they  came  on. 
But  from  every  loophole  of  the  fort  darted  a 
tongue  of  fire.  The  defenders  not  only  had 
muskets,  but  heavy  musketoons  which  scattered 
scraps  of  lead  and  iron  among  the  savages,  often 
maiming  several  at  one  discharge.  The  Iroquois 
fell  back  discomfited.  Three  days  more  wore 
away  in  a  series  of  futile  attacks.  Some  of  the 
assailants  were  now  for  going  home,  but  the 
majority  were  bent  on  revenge,  and  it  was 
resolved  to  make  a  carefully  planned  general 
assault.  Large  and  heavy  shields  four  or  five 
feet  high  were  made  by  lashing  together  three 
split  logs,  and  with  these  before  them  the  leaders 
advanced  followed  by  the  motley  throng  of 
other  warriors.  This  time  they  reached  the 
palisade,  and,  crouching  below  the  range  of  the 
bullets,  hewed  furiously  with  their  hatchets  to 
cut  a  way  through. 


o 


(^ 


b^ 


The  Ottawa  117 

Daulac  had  crammed  a  large  musketoon  with 
powder  and  plugged  the  muzzle.  He  inserted  a 
fuse,  lit  it  and  attempted  to  throw  the  weapon 
over  the  barrier  to  burst  like  a  grenade  among  the 
crowd  of  savages;  but  the  heavy  gun  struck  the 
ragged  top  of  one  of  the  palisades,  fell  back  and 
exploded.  By  this  unfortunate  accident  several 
of  the  defenders  were  killed  and  disabled,  and 
others  were  nearly  blinded.  In  the  confusion 
that  followed,  the  Iroquois  got  possession  of  the 
loopholes,  and  fired  through  onto  those  within. 
A  moment  later  a  breech  had  been  torn  in  the 
palisade.  Daulac  and  his  surviving  followers 
sprang  to  defend  it.  Another  breech  was  made,, 
and  then  another.  Daulac  was  struck  dead,  but 
there  were  still  a  few  left  to  keep  up  the  fight. 
With  swords,  hatchets  and  knives  they  struck  and 
stabbed,  till  the  Iroquois,  despairing  of  taking 
them  alive  fired  volley  after  volley  and  the  last 
one  fell.  Then  there  was  a  burst  of  triumphant 
yells. 

The  victors  examined  the  bodies  and  found 
four  Frenchmen  still  breathing.  Life  was  only 
just  flickering  in  three  of  them,  and  the  Iroquois 
lost  no  time  in  burning  them  before  they  expired. 
The  fourth  seemed  likely  to  survive,  and  they 
reserved  him  for  future  torments.     Next  they 


ii8     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

turned  their  attention  to  the  Indian  deserters 
from  the  fort.  They  had  promised  to  treat  them 
as  friends,  but  now  they  burned  several  of  them, 
and  carried  off  the  rest  as  captives  to  meet  a 
similar  fate  in  the  Iroquois  villages.  Five  of 
the  number  escaped,  and  it  was  from  them, 
aided  by  admissions  made  long  afterward  by  the 
Iroquois  themselves  that  all  knowledge  of  Dau- 
lac's  glorious  disaster  was  derived.  This  martyr 
foray  was  the  salvation  of  the  colony.  For  the 
time  being  the  hostile  savages  had  had  fighting 
enough. 

Settlers  were  slow  to  establish  themselves  in 
the  wilderness  along  the  Ottawa,  and  for  nearly 
two  hundred  years  the  only  visitors  were  trappers 
and  traders.  At  length,  in  1796,  a  Massachusetts 
man  built  his  cabin  on  the  shore  where  the  city 
of  Hull  now  stands,  just  across  the  river  from 
Ottawa,  the  capital  of  the  dominion.  But  he 
and  a  few  others  who  later  joined  him  hardly 
made  a  noticeable  impression  on  the  wilderness 
until  1826.  Then  a  government  commission 
arrived  to  investigate  possible  routes  and  the 
expense  of  building  a  canal  from  the  Ottawa  to 
Lake  Ontario.  The  desirability  of  such  a  canal 
was  urged  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who, 
admonished  by  the  War  of  18 12,  thought  it  best 


The  Ottawa  119 

to  have  a  route  from  western  Canada  to  Mon- 
treal independent  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  This 
canal  presently  became  a  reality,  and  it  winds 
through  a  very  attractive  section  of  country. 
Colonel  By,  one  of  the  government  representa- 
tives interested  in  the  canal,  started  a  village 
where  the  canal  entered  the  Ottawa.  This  village 
under  the  name  of  Bytown  had  a  population  of 
one  thousand  within  a  few  months.  Twenty 
years  later  there  were  six  thousand,  and  in  1855 
the  place  became  a  city  and  changed  its  name 
to  Ottawa. 

For  situation  no  Canadian  city  except  Quebec 
can  rival  it.  The  whole  river  front  presents  a 
succession  of  bold  promontories,  some  of  them 
rising  perpendicularly  from  the  water's  edge, 
clothed  with  pines  and  cedars,  and  separated 
from  each  other  by  small  bays. 

In  1827,  the  same  year  that  the  canal  was 
begun,  work  was  started  on  a  suspension  bridge 
to  cross  the  river.  The  initial  connection  with 
the  opposite  bank  was  obtained  by  firing  a  rope 
from  a  brass  cannon.  The  first  span  constructed 
gave  way  and  fell  into  the  stream.  While  the 
second  bridge  was  being  built  the  chain  cables 
broke,  precipitating  workmen  and  tools  into  the 


120     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

channel,  and  three  of  the  men  were  drowned. 
Next  a  wooden  bridge  was  attempted.  It 
was  nearly  completed  when  a  gale  overturned  it 
and  it  was  carried  down  the  stream.  Still  another 
bridge  was  presently  started,  and  this  time 
the  fates  were  propitious.  At  least,  it  was  com- 
pleted; but  twelve  years  later  it  followed  in  the 
wake  of  its  predecessors  by  collapsing  into 
the  river.  Communication  was  thereafter  by 
ferry  until  1843,  when  the  stream  was  again 
bridged. 

It  was  to  a  large  degree  a  matter  of  chance  that 
this  particular  place  became  the  capital  of  the 
dominion.  At  one  time  Quebec  was  the 
capital,  at  another  Toronto.  In  1840  the  British 
governor-general  effected  a  union  of  Upper  and 
Lower  Canada  and  made  Kingston  the  capital. 
Later  Montreal  took  a  turn  at  being  the  seat  of 
government,  and  while  it  was  enjoying  this 
distinction  the  dominion  parliament  voted  money 
to  pay  damages  to  those  who  had  property  de- 
stroyed in  the  "patriots'  "  rebellion.  This  meas- 
ure was  extremely  unpopular  with  many  of  the 
people,  and  when  the  governor.  Lord  Elgin, 
signed  the  bill,  he  was  mobbed  in  the  streets. 
The  rioters  then  went  to  the  House  of  Parlia- 


The  Ottawa  12 1 

ment,  turned  out  the  members,  and  burned  the 
building  to  the  ground.  That  settled  Montreal's 
fate  as  the  capital  of  Canada.  Queen  Victoria 
was  asked  to  choose  a  new  site  which  should  be 
the  permanent  capital,  and  in  1857  she  selected 
Ottawa.  The  place  was  at  that  time  a  moderate- 
sized  lumber  town,  but  the  magnificence  of  its 
site  weighed  strongly  in  its  favor,  and  its  position 
in  relation  to  the  population  of  the  dominion 
was  also  favorable. 

The  center  of  interest  in  Ottawa  is  the  parlia- 
ment buildings.  These  are  of  imposing  size  and 
have  not  a  little  dignity  and  beauty  in  their 
architecture.  Their  attractiveness  is  much  in- 
creased by  their  position  on  the  most  command- 
ing bluff  overlooking  the  river  and  a  great  sweep 
of  country  roundabout.  The  lumber  interests  of 
Ottawa  and  the  city  of  Hull  just  across  the  river 
are  still  of  great  importance,  and  there  are  many 
immense  sawmills  along  the  waterside. 

Hull,  in  the  early  days,  was  merely  a  landing 
place  to  portage  around  the  neighboring  Chau- 
diere  Falls  and  later  was  a  trading  post,  but  is 
now  a  great  milling  and  industrial  center.  It 
has  been  devastated  by  several  serious  fires,  and 
the  conflagration  of  April,   1900,  nearly  wiped 


122     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

it  out.  "The  fire  was  begun  by  some  woman 
burning  a  rubbish  heap,"  a  citizen  informed  me. 
"An  awful  wind  was  blowing  that  day  and  the 
fire  got  away.  It  swept  everything  before  it, 
and  great  sticks  of  blazing  timber  were  carried 
clear  across  the  river  and  started  a  fire  in  Ottawa. 
There  was  such  a  heat  it  was  impossible  to  get 
at  all  near  to  fight  it,  and  it  spread  so  fast  the 
firemen  sometimes  had  to  run  to  save  themselves, 
and  they  even  had  to  leave  their  hose  behind. 
They  were  driven  back  so  hastily  they  couldn't 
turn  the  water  off  at  the  hydrants,  and  by  and 
by  the  pressure  was  lost  and  they  were  about 
helpless.  They  couldn't  do  a  thing  in  front  of 
the  fire  and  simply  worked  to  prevent  its  spread- 
ing sidewise.  It  cleared  a  strip  straight  through 
the  town  and  only  stopped  when  there  was  noth- 
ing more  to  burn.  I  knew  a  carpenter  who  lost 
his  life  in  the  fire.  He  had  got  out  of  harm's 
way  when  he  thought  of  his  tools.  He  couldn't 
bear  to  lose  them  and  he  ran  back  to  the  shop 
intending  to  bring  them  away.  That  was  the 
last  ever  seen  of  him." 

The  burnt  district  was  all  built  up  within  a  few 
years  and  every  trace  of  the  ten  million  dollar 
loss  effaced.     This  recuperative  power  and  the 


The  Ottawa  123 

general  prosperity  of  the  region  is  largely  due  to 
the  abundance  of  water  power.  Canada  is  noted 
for  the  number  of  falls  on  its  streams;  but 
perhaps  no  district  is  richer  in  "white  coal,"  as 
this  power  has  been  called,  than  the  country 
around  Ottawa.  Inside  the  city  limits  alone 
there  is  one  hundred  thousand  horse  power,  and 
within  a  radius  of  ten  miles  as  much  more.  No 
wonder  that  the  future  of  the  region  should  be 
roseate  with  promise! 


VII 

THE    RICHELIEU   AND    LAKE    CHAMPLAIN 

THE  Lachine  Rapids  are  the  last  escapade  of 
the  St.  Lawrence,  and  thenceforth  it  moves 
oceanward  with  serene  majesty.  Half  way  to 
Quebec  the  stream  expands  into  Lake  St.  Peter, 
and  beyond  that  point,  inhaling  and  exhaling 
its  mighty  tides,  it  is  much  like  an  arm  of  the 
sea,  and  its  waters  presently  become  as  salt  as 
those  of  the  ocean  into  which  it  flows. 

Lake  St.  Peter  was  named  by  Champlain, 
who  happened  to  arrive  there  on  the  day  that 
belonged  to  this  particular  saint.  The  method 
he  adopted  in  conferring  a  name  on  Lake  St. 
Peter  is  typical  of  the  habit  of  the  devout  early 
French  explorers,  and  the  saints  are  abundantly 
in  evidence  in  the  nomenclature  of  the  country. 

The  chief  town  bordering  the  Lake  is  Sorel. 
I  arrived  there  on  the  steamer  late  one  Saturday 
night  and  went  up  into  the  town  to  find  a  hotel. 
At  the  first  place  where  I  stopped  I  could  get 
no  attention  from  the  landlord.  He  was  too 
busy  at  his  bar  serving  the  crowd  of  drinkers 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain     125 

who  are  always  out  in  force  on  the  final  evening 
of  the  week.  At  the  next  place  I  tried  I  secured 
a  room,  though  here,  also,  the  bar  claimed  the 
landlord's  time  to  such  a  degree  that  he  seemed 
to  regret  even  the  hastiest  formalities,  and 
quickly  returned  to  his  thirsty  customers. 

I  recall  with  somewhat  similar  interest  the 
way  in  which  I  left  Sorel.  My  wish  was  to  go 
on  by  train  from  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and 
I  hired  a  motor  boat  to  take  me  across.  It  was 
a  seven  mile  trip.  Two  men  went  to  run  the 
boat,  and  three  more  to  keep  the  others  company, 
and  they  carried  along  a  stout  bottle  of  whiskey 
from  which  they  imbibed  at  intervals  until  I 
began  to  fear  the  liquor  might  impair  their  sea- 
manship. It  was  a  relief  when  the  journey  ended 
and  I  was  once  more  safely  on  shore. 

Two  historic  tributaries  join  the  great  river 
at  Lake  St.  Peter.  These  are  the  Richelieu  and 
the  St.  Francis.  Both  were  important  pathways 
between  the  debatable  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
and  the  English  settlements  that  neighbored  the 
Atlantic  to  the  east  and  south.  Up  and  down 
these  thoroughfares  and  their  lakes  passed  and 
repassed  the  rival  races  of  ancient  Canada  and 
New  England.  The  Richelieu,  in  particular,  was 
a  great  main  war  trail.     By  following  it  up  to 


126     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Lake  Champlain,  and  continuing  thence  by 
Otter  Creek  and  Black  River  easy  entrance  was 
gained  to  New  England.  Or,  turning  westerly 
at  the  head  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  passing 
through  Lake  George,  only  a  short  portage  was 
needed  to  reach  the  Hudson. 

The  first  explorer  of  the  river  was  Champlain. 
Near  the  end  of  June,  1609,  with  eleven  other 
white  men  in  a  small  shallop,  and  accompanied 
by  a  host  of  Indians  in  canoes,  he  left  the  newly- 
established  town  at  the  foot  of  Quebec's  great 
rock  and  went  up  the  St.  Lawrence.  At  the 
mouth  of  the  Richelieu,  where  is  now  the  town 
of  Sorel,  the  warriors  encamped  for  two  days 
hunting,  fishing  and  taking  their  ease.  They 
quarrelled,  also,  and  as  a  result  three-fourths  of 
them  took  to  their  canoes  and  paddled  off  home. 
The  rest  pursued  their  course  up  the  placid 
stream  with  its  endless  walls  of  verdure  until  it 
broadened  out  into  the  tranquil  basin  of  Chambly. 
Above  were  rapids,  and  the  shallop  could  go  no 
farther.  Champlain  ordered  it  to  return  to 
Quebec  with  all  but  two  of  his  white  companions, 
while  he  went  on  to  see  the  "great  lake,  full  of 
fair  islands  and  bordered  with  fine  countries," 
of  which  his  allies  had  told  him.  The  Indians 
lifted  their  canoes  from  the  water  and  bore  them 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain     127 

on  their  shoulders  half  a  league  through  the 
damps  and  shadows  of  the  woods  to  the  smoother 
stream  above.  There  were  twenty-four  canoes 
in  all  and  sixty  warriors.  They  observed  a  cer- 
tain system  in  their  advance.  Some  went  ahead 
of  the  main  body  as  a  vanguard,  while  others 
were  in  the  forests  on  the  flanks  and  rear,  hunting 
for  the  subsistence  of  the  whole.  To  be  sure, 
they  had  a  provision  of  parched  maize  pounded 
into  meal,  but  they  saved  this  for  use  when  they 
should  be  so  close  to  the  enemy  that  hunting 
would  be  impossible.  Late  in  the  day  the  party 
would  land,  draw  up  their  canoes  and  range  them 
closely  side  by  side.  Rude  bark-covered  sheds 
were  then  made,  dry  wood  was  gathered  for  the 
fires,  and  trees  were  felled  with  which  to  form  a 
defensive  barricade  on  the  landward  side  of  the 
canoes  and  shelters. 

In  the  course  of  time  Champlain  came  to  the 
lake  that  now  bears  his  name  and  went  on  amid 
the  islands  and  broad  reaches  of  water  to  the 
more  open  portion  whence  he  could  see  the  forest 
ridges  of  the  Green  Mountains  far  off  in  the 
east,  while  on  the  western  horizon  loomed  the 
Adirondacks. 

The  vicinity  was  becoming  dangerous,  and 
the  party  now  moved   only  at  night.     All  day 


128     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

they  kept  close  in  their  forest  camp,  sleeping  or 
lounging.  About  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening  of 
July  29th,  they  approached  a  projecting  point  of 
land,  which  was  probably  the  promontory  since 
famous  under  its  resounding  Iroquois  name  of 
Ticonderoga.  The  word  means  the  "meeting 
of  the  waters"  and  refers  to  the  junction,  close 
by,  of  Lake  Champlain  with  the  outlet  of  Lake 
George.  As  the  allies  were  paddling  softly 
along  in  the  gloom  they  descried  on  ahead  a 
flotilla  of  Iroquois  canoes,  and  both  parties 
began  to  shriek  their  war-cries. 

The  Iroquois,  who  were  near  the  shore,  landed, 
and,  making  night  hideous  with  their  clamors, 
began  to  hack  down  the  trees  and  erect  a  barri- 
cade. The  allies  remained  on  the  lake,  just 
beyond  bowshot  of  the  enemy,  their  canoes 
made  fast  together  by  poles  lashed  across.  All 
night  they  danced  with  as  much  vigor  as  their 
situation  and  the  frailty  of  their  vessels  would 
allow,  and  yelled  defiance  and  abuse  at  the  foe. 
Champlain  and  his  two  followers  decided  to 
keep  the  enemy  in  ignorance  of  their  presence 
until  later,  and  toward  morning  each  man  lay 
down  out  of  sight  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  he 
was  in. 


Cj 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain     129 

When  the  dusky  woodland  shadows  had  been 
dispelled  by  the  increasing  light,  the  allies 
landed  at  some  distance  from  the  Iroquois.  After 
a  time,  the  latter  filed  forth  from  their  barricade, 
two  hundred  strong,  and  advanced  through  the 
forest  toward  the  invaders.  Among  them,  made 
conspicuous  by  tall  plumes,  were  three  chiefs. 
Champlain  now  stepped  out  in  front  of  the  ranks 
of  the  allies,  and  the  Iroquois  stared  in  mute 
amazement  at  the  warlike  apparition.  He  wore 
the  doublet  and  long  hose  then  in  vogue,  and  he 
had  buckled  on  a  breastplate  and  protected  his 
head  with  a  plumed  casque.  At  his  side  hung 
his  sword,  and  in  his  hand  he  carried  his  arque- 
buse,  a  short  gun,  something  like  the  modern 
carbine. 

As  soon  as  the  Iroquois  had  a  little  recovered 
from  their  astonishment  they  made  ready  to 
shoot  their  arrows.  Then  Champlain  leveled 
his  arquebuse  which  he  had  loaded  with  four 
balls,  aimed  at  the  leaders  and  fired.  Two  of  the 
chiefs  fell  dead,  and  the  other  was  wounded. 
Immediately  Champlain's  Indian  allies  "set  up 
such  a  yelling  that  one  could  not  have  heard  a 
thunder-clap,"  and  the  arrows  flew  thick  from 
both  sides.  The  Iroquois  were  greatly  aston- 
ished and  frightened  to  see  their  men  killed  so  sud- 


130     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

denly  and  mysteriously,  and  when  one  of  the  other 
white  men  fired  a  shot,  they  turned  and  fled.  The 
alUes  dashed  after  them,  and  killed  or  captured 
many  of  the  fugitives  who  abandoned  camp, 
canoes  and  provisions,  and  flung  down  many 
of  their  weapons.  That  night,  much  to  the 
horror  of  Champlain,  the  victors  tortured  and 
burned  at  the  stake  one  of  their  prisoners. 

It  was  not  safe  to  linger  there  in  the  enemy's 
country,  and  the  allies  promptly  retreated. 
Three  or  four  days  later  they  were  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Richelieu,  and  the  whites  went  on  down 
the  St.  Lawrence  to  Quebec,  while  the  Indians 
with  their  prisoners  went  in  the  other  direction 
toward  the  Ottawa.  This  single  victory  satisfied 
the  savages  for  the  time  being. 

Champlain  had  by  their  aid  explored  an 
entirely  new  region  and  had  the  promise  of  their 
future  help  in  pushing  into  the  unknown  to 
the  west  and  north.  In  return  for  these  favors 
he  must  continue  to  assist  them  against  the  Iro- 
quois. So  the  next  year  another  foray  was 
planned  into  the  enemy's  country.  The  Mon- 
tagnais  who  inhabited  the  Saguenay  region  went 
with  Champlain  and  a  number  of  other  whites 
up  the  river  and  established  themselves  on  an 
island  at  the  mouth  of  the  Richelieu  to  await  the 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain     131 

arrival  of  the  confederates,  the  Hurons  and  the 
Ottawa  Algonquins.  Here  they  were  on  the 
nineteenth  of  June  when  a  canoe  was  seen 
approaching  in  frantic  haste.  As  soon  as  it  was 
near  enough  for  the  Indians  in  the  canoe  to 
make  themselves  heard  one  of  them  ceased 
paddling  and  shouted  that  the  Algonquins  were 
in  the  forest,  a  league  distant  fighting  with  a 
hundred  Iroquois  warriors  who  were  protected 
by  a  barricade  of  trees. 

At  once  the  savages  on  the  island  seized  their 
weapons  and  ran  screeching  to  their  canoes.  Off 
they  went  accompanied  by  Champlain  and  four 
of  his  men.  When  the  canoes  reached  a  spot 
opposite  the  place  of  conflict  the  warriors  landed 
and  ran  into  the  woods.  It  was  beyond  the  power 
of  the  Frenchmen  to  keep  pace  with  the  light- 
limbed  rabble,  who  quickly  disappeared,  and 
the  white  men  found  themselves  deserted  in  the 
midst  of  a  swamp.  The  day  was  sultry,  and 
Champlain  says :  'The  mosquitoes  were  so  thick 
that  we  could  scarcely  draw  breath."  But  they 
pushed  on  through  mud  and  water  and  retarding 
vines  and  underbrush  until  they  heard  the  yells 
of  the  combatants.  Presently  they  came  to  a 
partial  clearing  made  by  the  Iroquois  axemen. 
On  the  borders  of  it  gathered  the  allies.     They 


132     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

had  been  repulsed  and  were  afraid  to  renew  the 
assault  on  the  circular  breastwork  of  trunks, 
boughs  and  matted  foliage  that  the  Iroquois 
had  erected.  The  Frenchmen  began  firing,  and 
when  these  mysterious  and  terrible  assailants, 
clad  in  steel  and  armed  with  thunderbolts  ran 
up  to  the  barricade  and  shot  death  among  those 
within,  the  defenders  were  overcome  with  terror. 
At  every  report  they  fell  flat  on  the  ground,  and 
the  allies  quickly  tore  an  opening  in  the  barricade 
and  the  fight  was  soon  over.  All  the  band  were 
killed  and  scalped  except  fifteen  who  were  made 
prisoners  and  kept  to  be  carried  to  the  Indian 
villages  where  they  would  be  put  to  death  by 
the  women  and  girls  with  all  the  tortures  that 
their  savage  ingenuity  could  invent.  To  cele- 
brate the  victory  the  body  of  one  of  the  slain  Iro- 
quois was  quartered  and  eaten,  and  there  was 
much  dancing  and  singing.  Then  the  canoes 
were  loaded,  camp  was  broken  and  the  victors  set 
out  triumphantly  for  home. 

As  time  went  on  and  the  numbers  of  the 
Europeans  in  the  New  World  increased,  the 
rival  interests  of  the  French  and  English  made 
the  Lake  Champlain  thoroughfare  of  vital  im- 
portance. The  advantage  of  gaining  full 
mastery  of  it  early  became  evident,  and  it  was 


A  Lake  L.i.'dtn phtin  jti'r\i>oitt 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain    135 

not  long  left  without  the  protection  of  armed 
garrisons.  In  1664  Fort  Chambly,  named  after 
its  builder,  was  erected  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids  on 
the  Richelieu,  only  a  thirteen-mile  portage  from 
the  St.  Lawrence  near  Montreal.  It  was  over  this 
ancient  portage  that  the  first  Canadian  railway^ 
begun  in  1832,  was  constructed. 

At  Chambly  there  is  still  a  carefully  preserved 
ruin  of  a  stone  fortress  built  in  those  long-gone 
times.  Its  outer  walls  are  for  the  most  part 
sturdily  complete,  and  it  stands  in  apparent 
guard  over  the  waterway,  at  the  foot  of  the 
rapids,  just  as  of  yore.  An  interesting  touch  of 
savage  romance  was  imparted  to  the  place, 
when  I  was  there,  by  my  finding  within  a  few 
rods  of  the  fort  the  stone  head  of  a  tomahawk. 
Who  knows  what  barbaric  deeds  had  been  done 
with  that  sharpened  bit  of  stone  ? 

In  1 73 1  the  French  began  to  intrench  them- 
selves on  the  western  side  of  Lake  Champlain  at 
what  they  called  Scalp  Point,  but  which  was 
known  as  Crown  Point  by  the  English.  Here> 
toward  its  southern  end,  the  lake  suddenly  con- 
tracts to  the  proportions  of  a  river,  so  that  a 
few  cannon  would  stop  the  passage.  Fort 
Frederic,  as  this  advanced  post  of  France  was 


134     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

named,  was  a  constant  menace  to  New  York 
and  New  England. 

The  English,  on  their  part  prepared  a  string 
of  strongholds  extending  from  Fort  William 
Henry,  at  the  southern  end  of  Lake  George,  well 
down  toward  Albany.  Thus  did  the  two  jealous 
powers  guard  the  "Grand  Pass." 

During  the  fighting  on  the  shores  of  Lake 
George  in  1755  the  French  made  intrenchments 
at  Ticonderoga,  or  Carillon,  as  they  called  it, 
and  they  busied  themselves  all  the  next  winter  in 
building  a  fort  on  the  promontory.  This  became 
a  hornet's  nest  from  which  swarms  of  savages 
poured  out  to  infest  the  highways  and  byways 
of  the  wilderness.  The  English  headquarters 
were  at  Fort  William  Henry  and  rangers  from 
there  were  constantly  harassing  the  French. 
The  most  notable  of  these  rangers  was  Major 
Robert  Rogers,  and  nothing  could  surpass  his 
adventurous  hardihood.  In  February  he  and 
some  of  his  men  climbed  a  hill  near  Crown  Point 
and  made  a  plan  of  the  works.  Then  they  lay 
in  ambush  by  an  adjacent  road  and  captured  a 
prisoner,  and  before  retreating  burned  several 
houses  and  barns  and  killed  fifty  cattle.  Shortly 
afterward  they  went  again  to  Crown  Point, 
burned  more  houses  and  barns  and  reconnoitred 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain    135 

Ticonderoga  on  the  way  back.  Such  excursions 
were  repeated  throughout  the  spring  and 
summer. 

But  the  first  notable  clash  at  Ticonderoga 
between  the  opposing  nations  occurred  in  1758. 
The  English  had  assembled  at  Fort  William 
Henry  more  than  fifteen  thousand  men,  the 
largest  army  that  had  ever  been  collected  in 
North  America.  General  Abercrombie  was  the 
English  commander,  an  elderly  man  raised  to 
his  place  by  political  influence;  but  the  actual 
direction  of  the  army  devolved  on  Brigadier 
Lord  Howe.  The  latter  was  in  his  thirty-fourth 
year,  and  he  was  full  of  energy  and  activity  and 
had  the  confidence  of  the  army  from  general  to 
drummer-boy.  He  had  studied  the  art  of  forest 
warfare  by  joining  Rogers  and  his  rangers  in 
their  scouting  parties,  and  sharing  all  their  hard- 
ships. By  his  orders  officers  and  men  threw  off 
all  useless  incumbrances,  cut  their  hair  close, 
wore  leather  leggings  to  protect  them  from  briers, 
and  carried  meal  in  their  knapsacks,  which  they 
could  at  any  time  cook  for  themselves.  In  all 
such  things  he  himself  set  the  example. 

On  the  fifth  of  July  the  whole  army  embarked 
in  bateaux  and  canoes  on  Lake  George  and  the 
next  day  landed  at  its  north  end.    A  detachment 


136     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

under  Rogers  plunged  into  the  woods  to  lead 
the  way  toward  Ticonderoga,  but  presently  came 
unexpectedly  on  a  party  of  French  who  greeted 
them  with  a  volley  of  musketry.  Among  those 
who  dropped  dead  was  Lord  Howe.  This  little 
skirmish  wrecked  the  fortunes  of  the  army, 
which  blundered  in  nearly  every  move  afterward. 
When  it  was  sent  forward  to  drive  the  French 
from  their  works  by  a  direct  assault  it  was 
attempting  the  impossible.  A  ridge  extended 
across  the  plateau  northwest  of  the  fortress, 
and  Montcalm,  the  French  commander,  had 
fortified  it  by  felling  trees  and  making  a  zigzag 
parapet.  In  front  of  the  parapet  the  ground 
was  covered  with  a  tangle  of  boughs,  many  of 
which  had  sharpened  points  projecting  away 
from  the  line  of  defence  to  embarrass  an  ap- 
proaching foe.  On  the  morning  of  the  eighth 
the  English  infantry  pressed  forward  with  orders 
to  carry  the  works  by  a  bayonet  charge.  But 
as  soon  as  they  got  among  the  bristling  boughs 
the  charge  was  broken  and  from  the  zigzag 
bastions  ahead  of  them  came  a  storm  of  grape 
and  musket  shot  to  which  they  could  make  no 
effectual  reply.  They  struggled  in  vain  to  force 
their  way  through  the  obstructions,  and  at  length 
retreated.     During  the  afternoon  they  made  no 


Co 


ti. 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain    137 

less  than  six  successive  assaults  and  lost  two 
thousand  in  killed  and  wounded.  Montcalm, 
with  his  coat  off,  for  the  day  was  hot,  directed 
the  defence,  moving  to  any  part  of  the  line  where 
the  danger  for  the  moment  seemed  greatest. 

It  might  still  have  been  possible  for  Aber- 
crombie  to  adopt  some  other  plan  of  action  that 
would  have  been  successful,  but  his  spirit  and 
that  of  his  army  was  broken.  The  entire  force 
withdrew  in  a  panic,  and  when  the  French 
reconnoitred  as  far  as  Lake  George  the  next 
morning  they  found  several  hundred  barrels  of 
provisions  and  a  large  quantity  of  baggage  that 
had  been  left  behind;  and  in  a  marshy  place 
that  the  defeated  troops  had  crossed  were  numer- 
ous shoes,  which  had  stuck  in  the  mud,  and 
which  they  had  not  stopped  to  recover. 

But  while  the  French  were  victorious  at  Ticon- 
deroga  they  suffered  reverses  elsewhere,  and  the 
next  year  they  felt  obliged  to  relinquish  Lake 
Champlain.  When,  therefore,  an  English  army 
again  arrived  in  the  vicinity  of  Ticonderoga  and 
began  operations  for  capturing  the  stronghold, 
the  garrison  slipped  away  one  night  in  their 
boats.  Shortly  afterward  a  broad  fierce  glare 
illumined  the  promontory  and  there  was  a  stu- 
pendous   crash    as    a    mine    beneath    the    fort 


138     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

exploded.  But  only  one  bastion  had  been 
hurled  skyward,  and  the  English  took  possession 
and  set  about  repairing  the  damaged  works. 
Before  they  were  ready  to  move  against  Crown 
Point,  that  also  had  been  deserted. 

With  the  outbreak  of  the  American  Revolution 
Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point  once  more  became 
objects  of  importance.  They  commanded  the 
northern  approaches  to  the  Hudson  River,  the 
strategic  center  of  the  whole  country.  Besides, 
they  contained  a  vast  quantity  of  military  stores 
that  would  be  a  great  aid  to  the  colonial  recruits. 
Two  expeditions  prepared  to  march  against 
them,  one  consisting  of  men  from  the  western 
hills  of  Massachusetts  under  Benedict  Arnold, 
and  the  other  of  "Green  Mountain  Boys"  of 
Vermont  under  Ethan  Allen.  The  two  parties 
united,  with  Allen  as  leader.  They  reached  the 
east  side  of  the  lake  on  the  night  of  May  9,  1775; 
but  not  nearly  enough  rowboats  could  be  found 
to  convey  the  men  across.  Delay  would  be  fatal, 
and  so  with  only  eighty-three  followers  Allen  and 
Arnold  crossed  to  the  other  side  and  at  daybreak 
climbed  the  ridge  to  the  fortress.  The  little 
garrison  was  completely  surprised  and  sur- 
rendered without  a  struggle.    At  the  same  time 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain    139 

Crown  Point  surrendered  to  another  detachment 
of  the  colonials. 

Ticonderoga  was  carefully  strengthened  until 
it  was  believed  to  be  impregnable;  but  a  neigh- 
boring point  which  commanded  the  whole 
position  was  neglected.  Less  than  a  mile  to  the 
south  the  narrow  mountain  range  between 
Lakes  Champlain  and  George  ends  abruptly  in 
a  bold  crag  that  rises  six  hundred  feet  above  the 
blue  waters.  The  Americans  were  aware  that 
a  hostile  battery  planted  on  this  eminence  would 
render  their  stronghold  untenable,  but  they  be- 
lieved it  was  impossible  to  get  siege  guns  up  the 
steep  ascent.  However,  when  Burgoyne's  army, 
in  midsummer,  1777,  came  from  Canada  to 
conquer  the  Hudson  Valley,  and  arrived  in  the 
vicinity  of  Ticonderoga  they  at  once  investigated 
this  mountain.  A  narrow  defile  was  found 
screened  from  the  view  of  the  fort,  and  here 
relays  of  men  labored  breaking  out  a  pathway 
and  dragging  up  cannon.  Great  was  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  garrison  on  the  morning  of  July 
fifth  to  see  red  coats  swarming  on  the  summit  of 
the  crag,  which  the  British,  rejoicing  in  their 
exploit,  named  Mount  Defiance.  In  another  day 
the  cannon  on  the  height  would  be  ready  for 
work.     Ticonderoga    was    no    longer    tenable, 


T40     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

and  that  night  the  garrison  withdrew  across 
the  lake. 

In  later  years  the  fort  was  neglected  and 
became  a  ruin.  Roundabout  was  a  great 
pasture  where  cows  and  horses  grazed,  and  the 
old  embankments  were  much  overrun  with 
clumps  of  thorn  trees  and  cedars  and  thickets  of 
poplars.  But  now  the  ancient  fortress  is  being 
restored  by  a  private  individual,  not  for  warlike 
purposes  but  as  a  matter  of  historic  interest. 

It  is  a  fascinating  place  to  visit,  and  so  is  old 
Fort  Frederic.  The  latter  is  five  miles  north  of 
the  village  of  Crown  Point,  and  one  autumn  day 
I  went  thither  on  foot.  The  weather  was  not 
very  propitious.  There  were  low-hanging  gray 
clouds  that  enveloped  the  hills  in  filmy  mists 
and  at  intervals  sent  down  a  foggy  precipita- 
tion. The  grass  was  loaded  with  waterdrops, 
the  trees  kept  up  a  sober  dripping,  and  the 
walking  was  decidedly  muddy.  The  road 
rambled  along  amid  pleasant  farming  country 
with  the  lake  often  in  view.  When  I  reached 
the  fort,  the  western  shore  turned  at  an  abrupt 
angle  and  the  waterway  which  hitherto  had  been 
so  narrow  as  to  resemble  a  sluggish  river  reached 
away  northward  in  an  expanse  of  considerable 
breadth.     Right  at  this  angle  were  the  mighty 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain    141 

earthworks  of  the  grim  old  fort.  They  are  still 
largely  intact,  and  behind  them  are  the  ruins 
of  the  stone  barracks  and  other  buildings.  Here 
and  there  grow  scattered  trees  to  relieve  the 
bareness  of  the  grass-grown  embrasures,  and 
up  the  road  just  beyond  the  earthworks  that  are 
so  suggestive  of  conflict  and  untimely  death  is  a 
peaceful  farm  with  its  snug  dwelling  and  broad- 
roofed  barns. 

Probably  the  most  widely  famous  natural 
attraction  in  the  Lake  Champlain  region,  aside 
from  the  lake  itself,  is  the  Ausable  Chasm.  To 
reach  it  the  traveller  leaves  the  main  line  of 
railway  at  Port  Kent  and  takes  a  branch  line 
that  carries  him  three  miles  back  inland.  Here 
is  a  green  valley  with  a  little  river  entering  a 
narrow  rift  in  the  big  hill  that  lies  between  it  and 
Lake  Champlain.  When  I  descended  by  the 
steep  zigzag  stairs  into  the  chasm  and  looked  up 
the  stream  I  had  in  full  sight  a  beautiful  white 
cascade  at  the  entrance  to  the  defile,  and  near 
at  hand  were  lesser  falls  and  tumultuous  rapids. 
I  went  on  down  the  gorge,  sometimes  on  narrow 
shelves  of  rock  well  up  above  the  water,  some- 
times on  broader  masses  down  by  the  stream. 
There  was  a  regular  route  carefully  prepared, 
with  stairs  at  steep  places,  and  protecting  iron 


142     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

railings  where  the  path  clung  high  along  the 
side  of  the  clifF.  It  was  a  crooked  way,  now  up, 
now  down,  and  with  many  twists  and  turns. 
The  heights,  far  above,  were  crowned  with 
ragged  trees,  and  down  below  was  the  gloomy 
channel  and  the  sinister  attenuated  stream 
seemingly  black  as  ink,  and  streaked  with  snowy 
foam.  Once  in  a  while  there  was  a  rift  in  the 
frowning  walls,  and  a  damp  wooded  ravine 
slanted  steeply  down  to  the  river,  and  in  the  face 
of  the  cliffs  were  numerous  small  caves  and 
niches.  All  these  features,  as  well  as  various 
oddly  fashioned  projections,  had  been  duly 
named  and  labeled,  and,  in  consequence  the 
chasm  has  a  grotesque  museum-like  aspect 
which  I  did  not  wholly  appreciate.  But  it  is 
nevertheless  a  grim  and  stupendous  gorge,  and 
is  one  of  the  most  impressive  specimens  of 
nature's  carving  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
After  a  mile  of  walking  the  path  comes  to  an 
end,  and  those  who  choose  can  continue  the 
journey  somewhat  farther  by  boat — a  rather 
exciting  voyage  if  the  water  is  high. 

Long  ago  a  highway  crossed  the  chasm  by  a 
bridge  that  spanned  one  of  its  deepest  portions, 
and  the  story  is  told  of  a  doctor  who  one  day 
crossed  the  bridge  on  horseback  to  visit  a  patient 


The  Richelieu  and  Lake  Champlain     143 

in  the  region.  He  was  detained  until  late  at 
night.  Meanwhile  some  workmen  had  started 
to  repair  the  bridge,  and  they  took  up  all  the 
planking.  When  the  doctor  reached  home  he 
was  asked  by  what  road  he  came.  He  replied 
that  he  had  crossed  the  bridge  as  usual,  and  as 
the  night  was  clouded  and  dark  he  had  not 
observed  but  that  it  was  in  its  ordinary  condition. 
That  he  had  actually  crossed  it  did  not  seem 
possible,  yet  when  the  bridge  was  examined  the 
marks  of  a  horse's  hoofs  were  found  on  one  of  the 
stringers,  and  it  was  evident  he  had  had  an  almost 
miraculous  escape  from  a  plunge  to  death  in 
the  wild  chasm. 

On  my  return  to  Port  Kent  I  found  the  wind 
blowing  briskly,  and  the  blue  waters  of  the  lake 
were  lashing  the  shore  in  white-capped  breakers. 
It  here  reaches  its  greatest  breadth,  but  as  the 
day  was  clear  I  could  see  the  opposite  shore 
distinctly  and  on  the  horizon  were  several 
mountain  ranges  that  seemed  imposingly  high 
in  the  azure  distance. 


VIII 

THE    HISTORIC    ST.    FRANCIS 

TN  pioneer  times  the  importance  of  the  St. 
-*-  Francis  River  as  a  highway  between  the  St. 
Lawrence  and  the  country  to  the  south  was 
second  only  to  that  of  the  Richelieu.  From  the 
valleys  of  the  Connecticut  and  of  the  Merrimac, 
and  thence  through  the  gateway  of  the  wilder- 
ness lakes  and  down  the  St.  Francis  passed 
more  English  captives  to  Canada  than  on  all 
other  routes  combined.  This  tributary  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  has  known  the  wail  of  human 
distress  at  every  turn  in  its  winding  course,  and 
has  witnessed  many  a  savage  tragedy. 

Near  its  mouth  was  an  Indian  village  with  the 
same  name  as  the  stream,  the  inhabitants  of 
which  were  nominally  Christians,  though  they 
remained  thorough  savages  in  dress,  habits  and 
character,  and  were  the  scourge  of  the  New 
England  borders.  In  September,  1759,  Major 
Robert  Rogers,  who  had  won  much  fame  as  a 
forest  ranger,  was  sent  against  this  village.  He 
and  his  men  went  in  bateaux  up  Lake  Cham- 


The  xLdtiijJis  at  the   tnticui.L  to  th,:  Jusiihle  Chasi 


The  Historic  St.  Francis  145 

plain  to  its  north  end,  where  they  hid  the  boats 
and  left  two  friendly  Indians  on  guard.  The 
party  then  began  its  march,  but  on  the  second 
day  out  the  two  Indians  overtook  Rogers  with 
the  startling  intelligence  that  about  four  hundred 
French  had  found  the  bateaux  and  that  half  the 
force  was  on  his  trail  in  hot  pursuit.  Other 
parties  would  doubtless  soon  be  warned  of  his 
presence  in  the  northern  wilderness,  and  his 
danger  was  serious. 

He  determined,  however,  to  outmarch  his 
pursuers  and  to  go  on  and  strike  St.  Francis  be- 
fore it  could  receive  help.  That  done,  he  would 
return  by  way  of  Lake  Memphramagog  and  the 
Connecticut  River.  For  nine  days  more  he  toiled 
northward,  much  of  the  time  through  dense 
spruce  swamps  with  no  dry  resting-place  at 
night.  Then  he  drew  near  to  his  destination,  and 
one  day,  toward  evening,  Rogers  climbed  a  tree 
and  descried  the  town  three  miles  distant. 

Accidents,  fatigue  and  illness  had  reduced  his 
followers  to  one  hundred  and  forty-two,  but  he 
was  not  dismayed.  Accompanied  by  two  officers 
he  went  to  reconnoitre  the  place,  and  on  its 
borders  left  his  companions  and  entered  the 
village  disguised  in  Indian  garments.  He  found 
the  savages  yelling  and  singing  in  the  full  enjoy- 


146     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

ment  of  a  grand  dance.  After  a  satisfactory 
survey  he  rejoined  his  party,  and  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  he  and  his  men  burst  in  on  the 
town.  Many  of  the  warriors  were  absent,  and 
the  rest  were  asleep.  Some  were  killed  in  their 
beds,  and  others  were  shot  down  while  trying  to 
escape.  In  all,  fully  two  hundred  of  them  per- 
ished. The  women  and  children  were  allowed 
to  get  away,  excepting  two  boys  and  three  girls 
who  were  carried  off  prisoners.  Hundreds  of 
English  scalps  were  dangling  from  poles  over 
the  doors  of  the  houses,  and  five  English  captives 
were  found  in  the  place.  The  town  was  hastily 
pillaged  and  set  on  fire,  and  the  retreat  began. 
Until  the  rangers  reached  Lake  Memphramagog 
they  subsisted  on  corn  from  the  Indian  town. 
Then  the  supply  failed,  and  they  separated  into 
small  parties,  the  better  to  sustain  life  by  hunting. 
The  enemy  was  now  close  behind,  and  twenty  or 
more  of  the  rangers  were  killed  or  captured. 
After  much  suffering  the  rest  reached  the  Con- 
necticut River,  and  eventually  the  half-starved 
remnants  of  the  expedition  were  welcomed  in 
the  outlying  settlements.  Thus  ended  one  of  the 
most  daring  wilderness  forays  on  record. 

The    headwaters    of  the    St.    Francis    are    a 
tangle  of  minor  streams,  the  most  important  one 


The  Historic  St.  Francis  147 

being  the  outlet  for  Lakes  Magog  and  Mem- 
phramagog.  The  latter  lake,  which  is  the  larger 
of  the  two,  is  an  immense  trough  extending 
north  and  south  across  the  border  line  between 
Vermont  and  Canada.  Its  western  shore  is  bold 
and  striking,  being  skirted  by  a  detachment  of 
the  Green  Mountains,  the  main  range  of  which 
can  be  seen  careering  along  the  horizon  far  in 
the  southwest.  To  the  east  and  north,  however, 
the  country  is  flat  and  monotonous. 

Not  far  from  the  junction  of  the  waters  of  this 
lake  with  those  of  the  St.  Francis  stands  Sher- 
brooke,  the  city  of  fairs,  whose  tapering  spires 
on  the  neighboring  hillslopes  are  visible  for  miles 
around.  The  fairs  which  have  given  it  such  wide 
fame  are  an  annual  autumn  institution.  They 
begin  on  Monday  and  last  five  days.  Visitors 
journey  hundreds  of  miles  to  enjoy  the  occasion. 
It  is  an  all-round  show,  contrived  to  suit  both 
the  agricultural  and  the  sporting  elements.  For 
the  delectation  of  the  former  there  are  farm 
exhibits  in  endless  variety.  I  suppose  the  pleas- 
ure-seekers from  a  distance  are  also  to  some 
degree  interested  in  the  farm  products,  and  they 
enjoy  the  stimulus  of  the  crowd  and  the  individ- 
uality of  the  rustics  who  have  flocked  in  from 


148     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

the  country,  but  they  are  present  chiefly  for  the 
racing  and  betting. 

The  town  is  only  a  little  beyond  the  American 
borders,  yet  it  is  in  most  respects  typically 
Canadian.  Two-thirds  of  the  people  are  French, 
and  the  dividing  line  between  them  and  the 
English  is  rather  sharply  drawn.  Marriage 
between  the  races  is  rare,  partly  because  as  a 
class  the  French  represent  the  poor,  and  the 
English  the  well-to-do,  but  mainly  because  the 
difference  in  religion  of  the  two  races  is  construed 
to  be  an  impassable  barrier  to  matrimony. 
French  is  the  language  commonly  heard  on  the 
streets  and  in  the  stores  and  other  public  places. 
Much  of  the  instruction  in  the  parochial  schools 
that  the  Catholics  so  faithfully  attend  is  in  their 
language,  though  the  children  are  also  obliged 
to  learn  English.  I  wondered  if  the  double 
burden  in  the  matter  of  language  was  not  some- 
thing of  a  handicap.  It  is  of  course  not  a 
peculiarity  of  Sherbrooke,  for  a  large  portion  of 
Canada  is  bi-lingual,  and  public  notices  are 
usually  printed  in  both  French  and  English. 

An  American  visitor  is  likely  to  consider  Sher- 
brooke's  churches  one  of  its  most  striking 
features.  These  are  decidedly  more  prominent 
than  are  the  churches  in  places  of  similar  popu- 


The  Historic  St.  Francis  149 

lation  in  the  States.  Our  much-divided  Protest- 
ants of  necessity  lag  far  behind  the  Catholic 
Canadians  in  the  impressiveness  of  their  houses 
of  worship.  The  Canadian  parishes  include  a 
very  large  number  of  people,  and  the  churches 
seem  to  be  their  chief  pride.  Consequently,  the 
buildings,  in  size  and  m  the  loftiness  of  their 
spires,  are  apt  to  loom  up  prominently  above  all 
their  surroundings.  The  people  in  general — men, 
women  and  children — can  be  depended  on  to  be 
present  regularly  at  Sunday  mass,  and  when  the 
services  end  the  streets  are  full  of  returning 
worshippers.  A  good  many  of  the  men  are 
smoking  their  pipes  as  they  go  plodding  home- 
ward. They  are  inveterate  tobacco  users — these 
Canadians — and  the  boys,  with  sham  smartness, 
start  to  puff  at  pipes  and  cigarettes  pitiably 
young. 

On  the  pleasant  Sunday  in  early  autumn  that 
I  was  in  Sherbrooke,  although  crowds  attended 
church,  these  were  far  from  including  the  entire 
population.  There  were  loiterers  about  the 
houses,  and  in  boats  on  the  water,  and  I  heard 
the  gunshots  of  hunters  rambling  in  the  woods. 
At  the  waterside  a  lad  who  was  fishing  told  me 
how  a  sturgeon  had  been  caught  near  by  a 
month  before.     As  he  described  it,  the  fish  was  a 


150     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

veritable  young  whale  in  size  and  strength. 
Indeed  two  men  struggled  with  it  in  vain  until 
one  of  them  waded  in  and  jabbed  the  creature 
a  few  times  with  his  jack  knife. 

While  we  talked  a  boatload  of  boys  got 
stranded  out  in  midstream.  They  splashed  and 
swore,  and  each  gave  vigorous  orders  to  the 
others;  but  there  they  stuck  hard  and  fast.  My 
friend  said  they  were  on  their  way  to  a  wild  little 
island  which  he  pointed  out,  and  where  he  said 
there  were  bushels  of  butternuts  to  be  had  for 
the  picking-up.  Presently  a  swarthy-faced 
woman  came  down  to  the  shore  and  shouted 
directions  which  finally  proved  effective.  They 
got  off,  came  to  where  the  woman  was,  and  she 
stepped  into  the  boat  herself  and  rowed  them  to 
the  island. 

After  mass  the  churchgoers  also  became 
pleasure-seekers,  and  each  person  followed  his 
inclination,  and  rested,  or  loafed,  or  amused 
himself  in  some  more  strenuous  way.  A  good 
many  went  to  the  saloons  for  drink.  Nominally 
the  saloons  were  closed  on  Sunday,  but  I  ob- 
served that  the  wise  knew  how  to  gain  entrance 
by  a  rap  at  a  secluded  door. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  students  from  a 
Catholic  college  filed   along  the  sidewalk  past 


The  Historic  St.  Francis  151 

my  hotel  in  a  procession  that  seemed  for  a  while 
likely  to  prove  endless.  They  were  mostly  from 
ten  to  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  in  their  long  Prince 
Albert  coats  and  flat-crowned  caps  looked 
awkward  and  raw.  They  marched  in  twos  in 
charge  of  black-gowned,  shovel-hatted  priests, 
and  I  could  not  but  think  of  them  as  machine- 
educated  and  repressed,  separated  from  the 
pleasures  and  warm  affection  of  home,  and  living 
lives  pathetically  narrow.  On  this  occasion  they 
were  going  to  a  playground  to  spend  the  after- 
noon in  games.  They  certainly  showed  no 
evidence  of  frisky  and  joyous  anticipation,  and  I 
wondered  if  the  games  were  not  of  a  sober  and 
lugubrious  character  supposedly  suitable  to  the 
day  in  the  ideals  of  the  priestly  educators. 

Many  of  the  humbler  homes  of  the  town  were 
decidedly  shabby,  carelessly  placed,  unsub- 
stantial, and  often  only  partially  finished.  Yet 
on  a  Sunday,  at  least,  you  may  see  around  these 
poor  dwellings  women  and  children  so  daintily 
dressed  that  you  are  inclined  to  doubt  that  those 
really  are  their  homes.  Apparently  they  are 
bound  to  have  fine  raiment  at  all  hazards,  even 
if  the  house  goes  to  pieces  over  their  heads. 

The  children  in  a  family  are  pretty  sure  to  be 
numerous,  though,  as  one  man  explained,  a  good 


152     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

many  die;  and  I  judged  from  his  tone  that  he 
thought  this  a  not  altogether  undesirable  relief 
from  a  too  heavy  burden.  He  said  the  people 
in  Sherbrooke  were  too  numerous  for  the  amount 
of  work  that  was  to  be  had,  and  when  a  man  lost 
a  job  it  took  him  about  three  months  to  find 
another.  So  it  was  a  common  habit  with  the 
young  men  to  go  to  the  United  States  to  seek 
work.  But  after  staying  long  enough  to  accumu- 
late a  snug  sum  they  were  apt  to  return  and  buy 
a  little  farm. 

The  St.  Francis  River  is  here  rather  broader 
than  one  can  throw  a  stone  across,  and  alternates 
with  swift  shallows  and  smooth  depths.  The 
houses  and  factories  of  the  town  along  the  shore 
are  not  very  prepossessing,  but  above  and  below 
is  pleasant  farming  country  close  at  hand.  That 
the  river  was  sometimes  a  furious  flood  was 
evident  from  scars  along  the  banks,  and  I  ques- 
tioned a  young  fellow  paddling  about  in  a  boat 
as  to  whether  the  dwellers  in  those  houses  so 
close  to  the  raging  waters  did  not  sometimes 
furnish  victims  to  the  river. 

"Yes,"  he  replied," there's  one  or  two  drowned 
every  spring.  They're  usually  young  ones  playin* 
around  the  water,  and  they  over-balance,  and  in 
they  go.     I  came  near  getting  drowned  myself 


> 


The  Historic  St.  Francis  153 

once.  I  was  quite  a  boy  at  the  time,  but  I  hadn't 
learned  to  swim.  Another  fellow  was  with  me. 
He  was  used  to  being  around  the  river  and  he 
wasn't  a  bit  afraid  of  it.  He  could  stand  on  a 
log  out  in  the  current  just  the  same  as  if  he  was 
on  dry  land;  and  he  was  showing  off  what  he 
could  do.  It  looked  so  easy  to  ride  on  a  log  that 
I  tried  it,  but  the  thing  went  from  under  me  and 
I  got  plumped  into  the  water.  I  couldn't  grip  it 
afterward  because  it  kept  rolling  over  and  over. 
I  had  gone  down  twice  when  the  other  fellow 
pushed  out  in  a  leaky  old  boat  to  where  I  was 
and  grabbed  me." 

On  the  banks  were  numerous  piles  of  logs 
among  the  little  houses.  These  had  come  down 
in  the  floods  and  were  much  battered  by  ice  and 
rocks  with  which  they  had  come  in  contact. 
Most  of  the  logs  had  been  sawed  and  split  enough 
so  that  the  fragments  could  be  easily  handled. 
The  bank  dwellers  were  sure  of  two  or  three 
floods  a  year,  but  these  do  not  furnish  as  bounti- 
ful a  harvest  of  driftwood  as  formerly.  The 
sawmills  allow  less  to  escape  them  and  more 
people  live  along  shore  to  catch  what  is  afloat. 

"I've  seen  the  stream  full  of  it,  years  ago," 
commented    one    man;  "and    there's   lots  of  it 


154     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

comes  down  yet — Oh,  gosh,  yes!  The  families 
on  the  bank  get  all  they  can  burn  themselves  and 
there  are  those  who  have  a  surplus  to  sell." 

Some  of  the  floodwood  can  be  captured  from 
the  shore,  but  the  people  do  not  hesitate  to  go 
out  into  the  swift  current  with  their  boats,  drive 
a  hook  into  a  log  and  row  to  land  with  it.  Even 
the  ice  which  accompanies  the  spring  flood  does 
not  deter  them. 

I  chatted  for  a  while  with  a  shore  dweller 
whose  most  conspicuous  garment  was  a  long 
linen  duster.  He  explained  very  intelligently  the 
characteristics  of  the  river  until  a  church  bell 
began  ringing.  Then  he  at  once  branched  off 
into  a  strange  religious  medley  to  this  effect: 
"God  is  in  jail  or  He  ought  to  be;  and  this  world 
is  not  run  right.  Most  anytime  it  may  tip  up 
and  we'll  all  slide  off  the  edge.  When  that 
happens  where  will  Abraham  and  Isaac  and 
Jacob  and  Bridget  and  Mary  and  you  and  me 
be  ?    I  want  you  to  tell  me  that." 

His  voice  rose  as  he  went  on,  his  words  came 
more  rapidly,  his  eyes  grew  wildly  bright,  and  at 
frequent  intervals  he  explosively  appealed  to  me 
to  know  if  what  he  said  was  not  so.  But  the 
man's    philosophy    was    too    intricate    for    my 


The  Historic  St.  Francis  155 

capacity,  and  I  embraced  the  first  opportunity 
to  withdraw.  One  of  his  fellow-townsmen  later 
informed  me  that  I  had  been  talking  with  Billy 
Bush,  and  in  explanation  of  his  peculiarities  said: 
"A  girl  give  him  the  cold  shoulder  when  he  was 
young,  and  he  went  bughouse  over  it." 


IX 

Quebec's  eventful  history 

OAMUEL  de  Champlain,  the  founder  of 
*^  Quebec,  was  only  thirty-six  years  of  age, 
when,  in  1603,  he  first  voyaged  up  the  St.  Law- 
rence; but  he  was  already  an  experienced  and 
skilful  seaman  and  a  practiced  soldier.  He  was 
a  man  of  great  activity,  daring  and  enterprise, 
and  at  the  same  time  he  was  firm,  honest  and 
cheerful.  To  his  patrons  he  was  always  faithful, 
and  to  those  under  him  he  was  just  and  consider- 
ate. On  this  first  voyage,  with  two  little  vessels, 
he  went  as  far  as  Montreal,  but  accomplished 
nothing  more  than  to  gain  a  knowledge  of  the 
river. 

Five  years  later  he  again  came  sailing  up  the 
St.  Lawrence,  this  time  in  a  single  ship,  and 
anchored  off  the  rock  of  Quebec.  The  Indian 
village  of  Stadacona  had  crowned  the  bluff  in 
Cartier's  time,  but  this  had  disappeared.  Cham- 
plain  was  prepared  to  attempt  a  permanent 
settlement,  and  Quebec's  commanding  height 
appealed  to  him  as  an  excellent  site  for  a  fortified 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         157 

post.  It  was  his  hope  that  when  the  town  was 
once  started  and  the  position  made  secure, 
expeditions  could  start  thence  to  explore  the 
waters  of  the  interior  and  find  a  western  route 
to  China  and  India.  Moreover,  the  fur  trade 
could  be  developed,  and  last,  but  not  least,  the 
souls  of  the  savages  could  be  saved  by  giving 
them  the  Christian  religion. 

Between  the  base  of  the  cliff  and  the  river  was 
a  gentle  wooded  slope,  a  few  rods  wide,  where 
the  marketplace  of  the  lower  town  now  is. 
Champlain's  axemen  felled  the  trees,  shaped 
them  into  timbers  and  erected  three  buildings 
for  the  shelter  of  the  colony.  These  were  in- 
closed by  a  strong  wooden  wall  behind  which 
was  a  gallery  loopholed  for  musketry.  A  moat 
surrounded  the  whole,  and  two  or  three  small 
cannon  were  mounted  on  platforms  to  command 
the  river.  A  garden  was  laid  out  on  the  ground 
adjacent. 

One  morning,  while  Champlain  was  at  work 
in  this  garden,  his  pilot  approached  him  with 
an  anxious  countenance  and  requested  in  a  low 
voice  to  speak  with  him  in  private.  They  retired 
into  the  neighboring  woods  where  the  pilot 
informed  his  chief  that  a  locksmith  named 
Duval  and  three  accomplices  had  befooled  or 


158     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

frightened  nearly  the  whole  company  into  a  plot 
to  kill  Champlain,  either  by  strangling  him  in 
his  bed,  or  by  raising  a  false  alarm  in  the  night 
and  shooting  him  as  he  came  out  from  his 
quarters.  They  were  dissatisfied  with  the  labor 
of  felling  trees  and  of  preparing  for  cultivation 
ground  that  was  so  full  of  stones,  roots  and 
stumps.  So  they  proposed  to  win  a  rich  reward 
by  delivering  Quebec  into  the  hands  of  a  party 
of  Basques  that  was  at  Tadousac. 

There  were  a  few  men  on  whom  Champlain 
could  still  depend,  and  at  ten  o'clock  that 
night  he  had  the  four  ringleaders  seized.  Most 
of  the  colony  was  asleep,  but  Champlain  had 
everyone  roused  and  told  them  of  the  discovery 
of  the  plot  and  of  the  arrest  of  Duval  and  his 
three  comrades.  Pardon  was  then  promised  to 
the  frightened  gathering  and  they  were  dis- 
missed to  their  beds.  The  next  day  Duval's 
body  swinging  from  a  gibbet,  and  his  head  dis- 
played on  a  pike  from  the  highest  roof  of  the 
buildings,  food  for  birds,  gave  warning  to  any 
who  might  be  inclined  to  plot  in  the  future. 

On  the  lower  river  was  a  trading  vessel 
commanded  by  a  merchant  named  Pontgrave. 
This  had  been  sent  out  under  the  same  auspices 
as  the  one  that  brought  over  Champlain's  colony, 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         159 

and  in  the  autumn  it  carried  back  to  France  a 
portion  of  the  men  at  Quebec,  leaving  him  with 
only  twenty-eight  men  to  hold  the  place  through 
the  winter.  A  roving  band  of  Indians  came  and 
built  huts  near  the  fort  and  busied  themselves 
catching  eels,  which  were  a  main  reliance  for 
sustaining  their  miserable  lives  in  the  months  of 
frost  and  snow.  After  this  slimy  harvest  had 
been  gathered  and  smoked  and  dried,  they  turned 
it  over  to  Champlain  for  safe-keeping  and  went 
off  to  hunt  beavers.  It  was  midwinter  when 
they  came  back,  and  they  then  settled  down  to 
a  life  of  idleness  in  their  smoky  birch-bark 
cabins.  Sometimes  their  dreams  or  chance 
noises  in  the  night  frightened  them  into  the 
belief  that  a  war  party  of  their  enemies  was 
making  a  descent  on  them,  and  they  would  go 
flocking  in  a  body  to  beg  admission  into  the  fort. 
Champlain  allowed  the  women  and  children  to 
enter  the  yard  and  stay  till  morning,  but  he  feared 
treachery  if  he  gave  the  men  the  same  liberty, 
and  they  stood  and  shivered  in  the  darkness 
outside. 

On  one  occasion  a  group  of  wretched  savages 
appeared  on  the  farther  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
evidently  desirous  to  cross.  The  river  was  full 
of  drifting  ice,  but  the  Indians  had  canoes  and 


i6o     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

they  embarked.  Midway  the  ice  caught  and 
destroyed  the  canoes.  The  occupants  of  the 
boats,  however,  escaped  onto  a  huge  raft  of  ice, 
the  squaws  carrying  the  children  on  their  shoul- 
ders. Then  they  set  up  a  despairing  wail,  but 
happily  the  ice  was  driven  against  the  northern 
shore  and  they  got  safely  to  land.  They  were 
worn  to  skeletons  and  nearly  famished.  Food 
given  them  by  the  French  was  devoured  with 
frenzied  avidity,  and  then,  still  unappeased,  they 
took  possession  of  a  dead  dog  that  Champlain 
had  left  on  the  snow  as  a  bait  for  foxes.  They 
broke  this  carrion  into  fragments,  and  thawed 
and  devoured  it.  Such  famine  conditions  were 
not  unusual  among  the  Algonquins  of  the  lower 
St.  Lawrence,  for  they  never  tilled  the  soil  and 
made  no  adequate  provision  against  a  time  of 
need. 

Toward  the  end  of  winter  scurvy  broke  out 
with  virulence  among  the  French,  and  by  the 
middle  of  May  there  were  only  eight  survivors. 
Pontgrave  was  back  from  across  the  Atlantic 
the  next  month,  and  it  was  agreed  that  Cham- 
plain,  whose  health  and  courage  had  remained 
unshaken,  should  set  out  to  find  a  way  to  China. 
As  a  means  of  furthering  this  enterprise,  he  had 
already   made   an   alliance  with   the   Canadian 


On  the  St.  Francis  at  Sherbrooke 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         i6i 

Indians  and  had  agreed  to  join  them  in  an  ex- 
pedition against  their  enemies,  the  Iroquois,  who 
dwelt  in  fortified  villages  within  the  limits  of  the 
present  state  of  New  York.  So  in  the  early 
summer  of  1609  the  Hurons  and  Algonquins 
resorted  to  Quebec,  pitched  their  camps  and 
bedecked  themselves  for  a  war-dance.  The 
dance  occurred  in  the  evening.  Plenty  of  wood 
had  been  collected  for  the  fires  which  blazed 
brightly  and  lighted  the  gloomy  face  of  the 
cliff,  and  the  glare  fell  full  on  the  tawny  limbs 
and  painted  visages  of  the  dancers  and  on 
brandishing  war-clubs  and  tomahawks,  while  the 
drum  kept  up  its  hollow  boom,  and  the  air 
resounded  with  yells.  A  feast  followed,  and  the 
next  day  the  allies  embarked  to  proceed  against 
the  Iroquois  by  way  of  the  river  Richelieu. 

The  expedition  was  successful  from  the 
Indian  point  of  view;  for  a  war-party  of  the 
enemy  was  defeated  and  the  invaders  safely  re- 
treated. As  for  Champlain  he  gained  important 
knowledge  of  one  of  the  great  natural  highways 
of  the  wilderness,  and  by  his  alliance  with  the 
savages  was  enabled  to  make  several  long  trips 
later  up  the  Ottawa  and  to  the  Great  Lakes. 

Meanwhile  Quebec  grew  very  slowly.  In 
16 15    four   Recollect   friars   arrived  there  from 


1 62     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

France.  Great  was  the  perplexity  of  the 
Indians  when  these  strangely-garbed  men  landed 
beneath  the  rock.  Their  apparel  was  mainly 
composed  of  a  rude  garment  of  coarse  gray  cloth, 
girt  at  the  waist  with  a  knotted  cord  and  fur- 
nished with  a  peaked  hood,  while  their  feet  were 
shod  with  thick-soled  wooden  sandals.  They 
made  an  altar  close  by  the  fortified  dwellings 
and  storehouses,  and  then  celebrated  the  first 
mass  ever  said  in  Canada.  Nearly  all  New 
France  kneeled  on  the  bare  earth  around  the 
officiating  priest,  while  cannon  boomed  from 
the  ship  and  the  ramparts. 

About  a  mile  back,  on  the  bank  of  the  St. 
Charles,  the  friars  built  for  themselves  in  1620, 
a  small  stone  house  with  ditches  and  outworks 
for  defence,  and  here  they  began  a  farm  and 
stocked  it  with  a  few  hogs  and  fowls  and  a  pair 
of  donkeys.  The  only  other  agriculturist  in 
the  colony  was  Louis  Hebert  who  had  crossed 
the  Atlantic  in  161 7  with  a  wife  and  three  chil- 
dren, and  had  made  for  himself  a  house  perched 
on  the  rock  up  above  the  settlement.  The  entire 
permanent  population  numbered  only  fifty  or 
sixty,  so  that  the  chronicler  could  not  have  been 
very  much  amiss  when  he  declared  that  the  fort 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         163 

had  two  old  women  for  garrison  and  a  brace  of 
hens  for  sentinels. 

The  same  year  that  the  friars  built  their  stone 
domicile  Champlain  brought  his  wife  to  Quebec. 
He  had  married  her  ten  years  previous  when 
she  was  only  twelve  so  that  she  was  still  quite 
youthful.  During  her  four  years  in  Canada, 
if  we  can  believe  tradition,  she  charmed  every- 
one with  her  beauty  and  gentleness,  and  the 
Indians  wanted  to  worship  her  as  a  divinity. 

Nearly  all  the  scanty  population  of  the 
country  consisted  of  fur-traders  and  the  men  in 
their  employ.  The  few  emigrants  lounged  about 
the  trading-houses,  or  roved  the  woods  on 
vagabond  hunting  excursions.  Hostile  Indians 
were  prowling  around,  and  in  the  summer  of 
1622  the  Iroquois  made  a  descent  on  the  settle- 
ment, and  assailed  the  Recollect  convent  on  the 
St.  Charles.  But  while  some  of  the  friars  prayed 
in  the  chapel,  the  rest  with  their  Indian  converts 
made  a  brave  defence  and  the  attacking  party 
withdrew. 

Political  intrigue  in  the  homeland  affected 
adversely  the  fortunes  of  the  colony,  and  the 
troubles  of  the  various  companies  that  were 
granted  trading  privileges  brought  it  again  and 
again    near   to    ruin.      Finally   war   broke   out 


164     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

between  France  and  England.  Quebec  had 
passed  through  a  hard  winter  and  in  the  spring 
of  1628  was  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  Four 
armed  vessels  with  a  fleet  of  transports  were  sent 
to  succor  Quebec;  but  about  the  same  time  an 
English  fleet  was  dispatched  for  the  St.  Lawrence 
on  a  voyage  of  conquest.  Quebec  was  incapable 
of  defence.  Only  fifty  pounds  of  gunpowder 
were  left,  and  a  fort  that  had  been  erected  a  few 
years  before  on  the  cliffy,  where  now  is  the 
Duff"erin  Terrace,  was  tumbling  to  ruin.  The 
English  arrived  in  the  St.  Lawrence  ahead  of  the 
French  fleet  and  anchored  at  Tadousac.  Some 
captured  Basque  fishermen  were  sent  up  the 
river  with  a  message  demanding  that  Champlain 
should  surrender.  His  response  was  that  he 
would  hold  his  position  to  the  last.  The  English 
commander,  deceived  by  the  bold  attitude  of 
Champlain,  thought  it  would  not  be  wise  to  risk 
attacking  the  stronghold.  He,  however,  en- 
countered the  fleet  from  France,  overpowered  it, 
and  all  the  supplies  destined  to  relieve  the  hun- 
gry tenants  of  Quebec  were  either  seized  or  sunk 
in  the  river. 

The  miseries  of  Quebec  increased  daily,  and 
the  four  or  five  score  of  men,  women  and  children 
cooped   up   in   the   fort  subsisted   on   a   scanty 


^.^ 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         165 

pittance  of  peas  and  maize.  By  the  time  another 
winter  and  spring  had  passed  the  food  stores 
were  wholly  exhausted,  and  the  members  of  the 
colony  betook  themselves  to  the  woods  to  gather 
acorns  and  grub  up  roots.  In  midsummer  three 
English  ships  arrived  before  the  town,  and  there 
was  nothing  for  the  starved  and  ragged  band  of 
French  to  do  but  to  surrender. 

When  France  and  England  made  peace  it  was 
agreed  that  Canada  should  be  restored  to  the 
former  power,  and  Champlain  crossed  the  ocean 
once  more  to  the  New  World  and  took  up  his 
harassing  round  of  cares  at  the  dilapidated 
hamlet  of  Quebec.  Ten  years  later  he  died  on 
Christmas  Day,  after  having  worked  nearly  three 
decades  with  unceasing  ardor  for  the  welfare  of 
the  colony,  sacrificing  fortune,  repose  and. 
domestic  peace.  Shortly  after  his  death  fire 
destroyed  the  church  near  which  he  was  buried 
and  the  place  of  his  interment  was  forgotten. 
But  in  1856  some  men  who  were  laying  water- 
pipes  at  the  foot  of  Breakneck  Stairs  discovered 
a  mouldering  coffin  and  a  few  bones  in  a  lofty 
vault.  A  person  of  distinction  had  evidently 
been  buried  there,  and  that  person  is  supposed 
to  have  been  Champlain,  the  "Father  of  New- 
France." 


1 66     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Quebec  long  continued  to  lead  a  precari- 
ous existence  and  the  perils  of  the  wilderness 
still  encompassed  it  in  1658  when  the  young 
Vicomte  d'Argenson  crossed  the  ocean  to  be- 
come governor  of  the  colony.  On  the  day  after 
he  arrived  at  Quebec,  while  he  was  washing  his 
hands  before  seating  himself  to  dine  in  the 
Chateau  St.  Louis,  he  was  startled  by  cries  of 
alarm.  The  Iroquois  had  made  a  descent  on 
an  outlying  home,  and  their  warwhoops  and  the 
screams  of  their  victims  were  distinctly  heard. 
Argenson  ran  out  and,  with  such  a  following  as 
he  could  muster,  hastened  to  the  rescue;  but  the 
nimble  assailants  had  disappeared  in  the  forests 
which  at  that  time  grew  close  around  the  town. 

In  the  years  that  followed  shiploads  of  emi- 
grants arrived  every  summer  from  France  and 
Quebec  was  growing  into  a  place  that  seemed 
to  have  a  good  deal  of  stability  and  promise  for 
the  future.  But  about  ten  o'clock  one  August 
night  in  1682,  there  was  an  alarm  of  fire.  Shouts 
and  the  ringing  of  bells  roused  the  people  from 
their  slumber,  and  they  ran  forth  to  find  the 
flames  burning  so  fiercely  in  the  Lower  Town 
that  it  was  as  light  as  noonday.  Only  kettles 
and  buckets  were  available  for  throwing  water, 
and  the  crowd  was  bewildered  with  excitement 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         167 

and  fright.  The  buildings  were  all  of  wood,  and 
those  who  attempted  to  combat  the  fire  had 
constantly  to  retreat  from  the  heat  and  rapidly 
spreading  flames.  Toward  morning  the  fire 
burned  itself  out.  Fifty-five  buildings  had  been 
destroyed,  many  of  them  storehouses  filled  with 
goods,  so  that  the  property  consumed  was  of 
greater  value  than  all  that  remained  in  Canada. 
Before  the  town  had  fully  recovered  from  this 
disaster,  trouble  was  again  brewing  with  the 
English.  Count  Frontenac  was  now  governor 
of  New  France.  He  had  reached  the  age  of  three 
score  years  and  ten,  but  the  grizzled  veteran 
was  still  erect  and  vigorous,  and  scarcely  less 
keen,  fiery  and  headstrong  than  he  had  been  in 
his  youth.  To  teach  the  English  that  prudence 
was  advisable  and  a  policy  of  conciliation  toward 
their  Canadian  neighbors  he  sent  various  war 
parties,  largely  made  up  of  savages,  to  lay  waste 
their  border  settlements.  This,  however,  so 
roused  the  belligerence  of  the  sufferers  that  a 
naval  expedition  was  organized  to  go  to  the  St. 
Lawrence.  On  the  sixteenth  of  October,  1690,  a 
fleet  of  ships,  schooners  and  fishing  craft  from 
Boston,  all  thronged  with  men,  glided  into  the 
Basin  of  Quebec  between  the  town  and  the  Isle 
of  Orleans.    Soon  a  boat  left  the  fleet  carrying  a 


1 68     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

messenger  with  a  letter  from  Admiral  Phips  to 
the  French  commander.  At  the  shore  the 
messenger  was  blindfolded,  and  while  ostensibly 
being  led  to  the  governor,  was  conducted  hither 
and  thither  and  made  to  clamber  over  all  sorts 
of  obstructions.  A  noisy  crowd  surrounded  him 
in  this  progress,  hustling  him  and  laughing  at  his 
discomfort. 

Finally  he  was  brought  into  the  Chateau 
St.  Louis,  the  bandages  were  removed  from  his 
eyes,  and  he  found  himself  in  a  large  hall  facing 
the  stern  and  haughty  Frontenac  and  his  officers 
in  glittering  uniforms.  He  delivered  his  letter, 
which  demanded  the  surrender  of  all  Canada  and 
gave  one  hour  for  the  preparation  of  an  answer. 
Frontenac's  reply  was  an  immediate  negative. 
When  the  messenger  asked  that  the  answer  be 
put  in  writing  Frontenac  said:  "I  will  answer 
only  by  the  mouths  of  my  cannon." 

The  envoy  was  then  blindfolded  and  sent  back 
as  he  came.  In  the  days  that  followed,  the  ships 
engaged  in  a  tremendous  bombardment  that 
wasted  a  great  deal  of  ammunition  and  did  no 
damage  worth  mentioning.  Much  was  hoped 
from  the  efforts  of  a  force  of  thirteen  hundred  men 
that  landed  east  of  the  St.  Charles,  and  some  des- 
perate fighting  ensued.      They  suffered  greatly. 


A  byway  aJjotumg  tie  Basilica 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         169 

One  night  while  they  were  on  shore  ice  formed 
an  inch  thick,  they  were  scantily  supplied  with 
food,  many  became  sick,  and  at  the  end  of  four 
days  they  were  withdrawn. 

Phips  now  called  a  council  of  officers,  and  it 
was  resolved  that  the  men  should  rest  a  day  or 
two,  that  there  should  be  a  meeting  for  prayer, 
and  then,  if  there  was  sufficient  ammunition, 
another  landing  should  be  attempted.  But 
rough  weather  interfered  with  the  prayer-meet- 
ing, and  the  disheartened  New  Englanders 
hauled  up  their  anchors  and  sailed  away.  Quebec 
had  meanwhile  been  awaiting  its  fate  with  agita- 
tion and  alarm.  The  pinch  of  famine  had  begun 
to  be  felt,  and  in  another  week  the  place  would 
have  been  helpless.  Now  it  breathed  freely 
again. 

The  English  were  gone,  but  their  allies,  the 
Iroquois,  continued  to  devastate  the  upper  valley, 
and  in  1692  Frontenac,  in  reprisal  for  their 
barbarities,  ordered  that  two  Iroquois  prisoners 
who  had  been  brought  to  Quebec  should  be 
burned.  One  stabbed  himself  in  prison.  The 
other  was  tortured  to  death  on  Cape  Diamond 
by  the  Christian  Hurons,  defying  them  to  the  last. 

During  the  next  two  years  the  Iroquois  suf- 
fered greatly,  and  at  length  a  deputation  was 


1 70     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

sent  to  Quebec  to  treat  for  peace.  Their  gar- 
ments bespoke  their  destitute  condition.  AU 
were  dressed  in  shabby  deerskins  and  old  blan- 
kets except  their  chief  orator  who  wore  a  scarlet 
coat  laced  with  gold,  given  him  by  the  governor 
of  New  York.  Frontenac  did  his  best  to  win 
their  friendship.  He  feasted  them  at  his  own 
table  and  bestowed  gifts  so  liberally  that  the 
tattered  ambassadors  went  home  in  embroidered 
coats,  laced  shirts  and  plumed  hats.  But  in  the 
end  the  negotiations  came  to  naught. 

In  the  years  of  comparative  peace  and  security 
that  followed  Quebec  grew  and  prospered,  but 
still  retained  much  of  the  character  of  a  frontier 
town.  Education  was  neglected,  and  when 
early  in  the  eighteenth  century  a  printing  press 
was  brought  to  Quebec,  it  was  looked  on  with 
such  disfavor  that  it  was  sent  back  whence  it 
came. 

Complaint  was  made  that  the  young  men  of 
the  place  were  too  much  inclined  to  "run  wild 
in  the  woods  for  the  sake  of  a  few  pelts."  As  for 
the  young  ladies,  here  is  a  description  of  them 
from  the  pen  of  a  traveller  who  was  in  Quebec 
about  1750: 

"They  are  attentive  to  know  the  newest 
fashions,  and  laugh  at  each  other  when  they  are 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         171 

not  dressed  to  each  other's  fancy.  A  girl  of 
eighteen  is  reckoned  poorly  off  if  she  cannot 
enumerate  at  least  twenty  lovers.  These  young 
ladies,  especially  those  of  higher  rank,  get  up 
at  seven  and  dress  till  nine,  drinking  coffee  at 
the  same  time.  Then  they  place  themselves 
near  a  windov7  that  opens  into  the  street,  take 
up  some  needle-work,  and  sew  a  stitch  now  and 
then,  but  turn  their  eyes  toward  the  street  most 
of  the  time.  When  a  young  fellow  comes  in  they 
immediately  set  aside  their  work,  and  begin  to 
chat,  laugh  and  joke." 

The  person  quoted  affirms  that  the  maidens 
of  Montreal  felt  "very  much  displeased  because 
those  of  Quebec  get  husbands  quicker  than 
they." 

The  greatest  episode  in  Quebec's  history  is  its 
capture  by  the  English  in  1759.  War  had  been 
raging  for  several  years,  but  not  until  then  had 
the  heart  of  the  colony  been  invaded.  In  or  near 
Quebec  was  an  army  of  sixteen  thousand  men, 
under  the  command  of  Montcalm,  an  officer  of 
great  ability  who  had  rendered  his  country  dis- 
tinguished service.  He  was  a  man  of  culture, 
fond  of  reading  and  study,  and  eager  to  return 
to  his  rural  home  in  France  where  he  had  left 
behind  a  wife  and  six  children. 


172     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

The  French  forces  had  elements  of  both 
strength  and  weakness.  A  large  number  of 
Indians  were  included,  and  though  they  were 
often  a  great  help  in  a  sudden  attack,  any  pro- 
tracted movement  was  distasteful  to  them,  and 
it  could  never  be  foreseen  when  they  would  go 
off  in  a  huff,  or  the  various  clans  fall  to  fighting 
among  themselves.  Montcalm  in  telling  how 
grotesquely  they  painted  and  dressed  says: 
"You  would  take  them  for  so  many  masqueraders 
or  devils;"  and  he  adds:  "One  needs  the  patience 
of  an  angel  to  get  on  with  them." 

Another  large  portion  of  the  army  consisted 
of  Canadians.  As  bush-fighters  they  were  mar- 
vellously efficient,  and  they  did  well  behind  earth- 
works; but  when  it  came  to  a  battle  in  an  open 
field,  they  were  disorderly,  and  were  apt  to 
break  and  take  to  cover  at  the  moment  of  crisis. 
But  Montcalm  had  no  intention  of  putting  them 
to  this  test.  It  was  his  plan  to  avoid  a  pitched 
battle  and  to  wear  his  antagonists  out  by  making 
it  impossible  for  them  to  get  at  him. 

The  English  expedition  was  in  charge  of 
General  James  Wolfe.  He  was  in  his  thirty- 
third  year,  a  person  of  unbounded  energy  and 
courage  and  ability,  but  much  handicapped  by 
U-health.     His  available  force  for  land  opera- 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         173 

tions  was  less  than  nine  thousand  men.  What 
chance  had  he  against  the  much  larger  French 
army  posted  behind  defensive  works  that  were 
almost  impregnable  by  nature  ? 

On  June  twenty-sixth  the  English  fleet  arrived, 
and  anchored  off  the  south  shore  of  the  Island  of 
Orleans,  a  few  miles  from  Quebec.  A  flotilla 
of  fireships  had  been  prepared,  which  it  was 
hoped  would  destroy  the  English  vessels.  These 
sailed  down  the  river  one  dark  night  on  their 
mission;  but  the  nerve  of  those  in  charge  failed 
them.  They  set  fire  to  their  ships  a  half  hour  too 
soon.  The  vessels  were  filled  with  pitch  and 
tar  and  other  combustibles,  mixed  with  fire- 
works and  bombs,  and  they  carried  various  old 
cannon  and  muskets  loaded  to  the  throat.  Some 
English  sentries  posted  at  the  Point  of  Orleans 
were  so  amazed  at  the  sudden  eruption  and  the 
din  of  the  explosions,  and  the  flying  missiles, 
that  they  lost  their  wits  and  fled.  Gloomy 
volumes  of  smoke  rolled  upward,  and  the  sheets 
of  fire  illumined  the  clouds  and  shed  an  infernal 
glare  over  the  water  and  the  shore  and  even 
the  distant  city.  But  the  fireships  did  no  harm 
except  to  burn  alive  one  of  their  own  captains 
and  six  or  seven  of  his  sailors. 


174     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Wolfe  seized  Point  Levi  opposite  Quebec, 
threw  up  intrenchments,  and  soon  was  dropping 
bombs  and  balls  into  the  town.  In  a  single  day 
eighteen  houses  and  the  cathedral  were  burned 
by  exploding  shells.  But  to  lay  Quebec  in  ruins 
was  little  gain  if  its  defending  army  was  unde- 
feated. Only  a  few  of  the  French  were  needed 
to  protect  the  almost  inaccessible  heights  that 
fronted  the  river  from  Quebec  westward,  and 
the  army  for  the  most  part  was  posted  along  the 
Beauport  waterside  from  the  St.  Charles  to  the 
Montmorency,  a  distance  of  seven  or  eight 
miles.  They  had  thought  it  impossible  for  any 
hostile  ship  to  pass  the  batteries  of  the  city; 
but  one  night,  with  a  favoring  wind,  several  of 
the  English  vessels  sailed  to  the  upper  river 
without  suffering  serious  injury.  Other  ships 
and  transports  ran  the  gauntlet  later,  and  a  fleet 
of  flatboats  followed. 

The  French  were  by  this  time  on  short  rations, 
and  the  operations  of  the  enemy  above  the  town 
made  them  fearful  that  their  supplies  might  be 
cut  off.  These  came  from  the  districts  up  the 
river,  sometimes  in  boats  at  night,  sometimes 
by  land,  and  always  with  a  good  deal  of  hazard. 

It  became  more  and  more  difficult  to  maintain 
discipline  among  the  troops,  disorder  and  pillage 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         175 

were  rife,  and  the  Canadians  deserted  so  fast 
that  toward  the  end  of  August  it  is  said  that  two 
hundred  of  them  would  sometimes  go  off  in  a 
single  night. 

Wolfe  continued  to  be  haunted  by  illness,  and 
at  one  time  was  wholly  incapacitated  for  a  week. 
His  only  fear  was  that  he  might  not  be  able  to 
lead  his  troops  in  person  when  he  had  perfected 
arrangements  for  a  desperate  attempt  to  dis- 
lodge the  foe.  He  told  his  physician  that  he 
knew  perfectly  well  he  could  not  be  cured,  but 
begged  that  he  might  be  put  in  shape  to  do  his 
duty  for  a  few  days  without  pain. 

While  examining  the  river  shore  above  the 
town  he  observed  a  path,  about  a  mile  from 
Cape  Diamond,  that  ran  with  a  long  slope  up 
the  face  of  the  brushy  precipice,  and  he  saw  at 
the  top  a  cluster  of  tents.  These  belonged  to  a 
guard  of  a  hundred  men  stationed  there  to  watch 
the  Anse  du  Foulon,  now  called  Wolfe's  Cove. 
Here  it  was  decided  to  attempt  a  landing.  On 
September  twelfth  everything  was  ready.  The 
main  fleet  in  the  Basin  of  Quebec  ranged  itself 
along  the  Beauport  shore,  and  that  night  boats 
were  lowered  full  of  men  while  ship  signalled  to 
ship,  cannon  flashed  and  thundered,  and  shot 
ploughed   the   beach   as   if  to  clear   a  way   for 


176     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

assailants  to  land.  Montcalm  thought  an 
attack  here  was  imminent,  and  he  massed  his 
troops  to  repel  it. 

The  real  danger  was  ten  miles  up  the  river. 
Thirty  large  bateaux  besides  smaller  boats  lay 
alongside  the  vessels  there,  and  seventeen  hun- 
dred men  had  made  ready  to  embark  in  them. 
About  two  o'clock  the  tide  began  to  ebb,  and 
the  boats  cast  off  and  floated  away  with  the 
current.  The  stars  were  visible,  but  the  night 
was  moonless.  General  Wolfe  was  in  one  of 
the  foremost  boats.  As  they  drifted  along  he 
repeated  in  a  low  voice  to  the  officers  about  him 
Gray's  "Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard." 
"Gentlemen,"  said  he  in  closing,  "I  would 
rather  have  written  those  lines  than  take 
Quebec." 

When  they  neared  their  destination  a  sentry 
challenged  them;  but  an  officer  who  spoke 
French  fluently  responded  and  allayed  the 
sentry's  suspicions.  The  man  on  shore  con- 
cluded the  procession  of  boats  was  a  convoy  of 
provisions  Montcalm's  army  expected  down  the 
river  that  night. 

Just  below  the  cove,  the  troops  disembarked 
on  a  narrow  strand  at  the  foot  of  the  steep 
heights.     Near  by  was  a  rough  ravine  choked 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         17*7 

with  forest  trees,  and  in  its  depths  ran  a  little 
brook,  which,  swollen  by  recent  rains,  could  be 
heard  splashing  down  its  rocky  course.  As  soon 
as  the  advance  parties  of  English  had  scaled  the 
heights  they  saw  a  cluster  of  tents  at  a  short 
distance  and  immediately  made  a  dash  at  them. 
The  guard  detailed  for  this  place  was  largely 
made  up  of  Canadians,  and  the  commandant 
had  allowed  many  of  them  to  go  home  for  a 
time  to  work  at  their  harvesting.  Nor  was  he 
keeping  a  strict  watch  with  those  he  had  left, 
and  he  himself  had  gone  to  bed.  So  there  was 
little  resistance.  Some  were  captured  and  the 
rest  ran  away. 

The  loud  huzzas  of  the  victors  announced  to 
their  waiting  comrades  below  the  result  of  the 
action.  At  once  the  entire  body  of  troops  began 
to  scramble  up  the  steep  ascent,  clutching  at 
trees  and  bushes,  their  muskets  slung  at  their 
backs.  The  narrow,  slanting  path  on  the  face 
of  the  precipice  had  been  made  impassable  by 
trenches  and  abattis;  but  all  obstructions  were 
soon  cleared  away.  Meanwhile  some  of  the 
boats  had  returned  to  the  vessels  for  more  men, 
and  others  had  crossed  the  river  to  get  troops 
that  were  waiting  on  the  south  shore. 


178     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

When  day  broke,  Wolfe  had  thirty-five  hun- 
dred men  drawn  up  along  the  crest  of  the  heights. 
They  were  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  so  called 
from  Abraham  Martin,  a  St.  Lawrence  River 
pilot  who  had  owned  the  land  in  early  times. 
It  was  a  rather  monotonous  grassy  plateau  with 
here  and  there  a  patch  of  corn  and  clumps  of 
bushes,  and  it  stretched  without  fence  or  inclos- 
ure  up  to  the  walls  of  the  town. 

Montcalm  at  Beauport  had  passed  a  sleepless 
night  listening  to  the  bellowing  of  the  cannon 
of  the  fleet  along  his  front  and  watching  the 
boats  that  hovered  off  shore.  Not  until  after 
six  o'clock  the  next  morning  was  he  aware  of 
how  the  English  had  outwitted  him.  In  hot 
haste  he  rode  to  the  city,  and  his  army  was 
ordered  to  follow.  Wolfe  was  now  in  a  position 
to  cut  off  his  supplies,  and  there  was  no  choice 
but  to  fight.  By  ten  o'clock  Montcalm  had 
mustered  a  force  equal  to  that  of  the  English. 
It  formed  in  three  bodies  and  made  an  impetuous 
charge,  the  men  uttering  loud  shouts  and  firing 
as  they  advanced.  When  they  were  within 
forty  paces  there  burst  from  the  English  line  a 
crash  of  musketry.  Another  volley  followed, 
and  then  a  few  moments  of  furious  clattering 
fire.    As  soon  as  the  smoke  rose  the  ground  was 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         179 

seen  to  be  cumbered  with  dead  and  wounded,  and 
the  French  paused,  frantically  shouting,  cursing 
and  gesticulating.  The  English  were  now 
ordered  to  charge,  and  with  cheers  and  yells 
they  dashed  forward.  Only  at  their  right  was 
there  any  serious  resistance.  This  came  from 
some  sharpshooters  concealed  in  the  bushes  and 
cornfields.  Wolfe  himself  led  the  charge  here. 
A  shot  shattered  his  wrist.  He  wrapped  his 
handkerchief  about  it  and  kept  on.  Another 
shot  struck  him,  but  he  still  advanced,  till  a 
third  bullet  lodged  in  his  breast.  Then  he 
staggered  and  sat  down.  Some  of  his  men  ran 
to  his  aid  and  carried  him  to  the  rear  where 
they  laid  him  on  the  ground.  One  of  them 
looking  back,  exclaimed:  "They  run!  See  how 
they  run!" 

"Who  run  ?"  Wolfe  demanded. 

"The  enemy,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "They 
give  away  everywhere." 

"Now  God  be  praised.  I  will  die  in  peace!" 
murmured  Wolfe,  and  in  a  few  moments  his 
gallant  soul  had  departed. 

Montcalm,  still  on  horseback,  was  borne  along 
with  the  tide  of  fugitives  toward  the  town.  As 
he  approached  the  walls  a  shot  passed  through 
his  body.    Two  soldiers  supported  him,  one  on 


i8o     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

each  side,  and  led  his  horse  through  the  St. 
Louis  Gate.  He  was  carried  into  a  house  and 
a  surgeon  examined  his  wound  and  pronounced 
it  mortal.  Montcalm  quietly  asked  how  long 
he  had  to  live. 

"  Probably  not  more  than  twelve  hours,"  was 
the  reply. 

"So  much  the  better,"  commented  the  dying 
general.  "I  am  happy  that  I  shall  not  live  to 
see  the  surrender  of  Quebec." 

He  passed  away  peacefully  late  that  night. 
In  the  confusion  of  the  time  no  workman  could 
be  found  to  make  a  coffin,  but  an  old  servant  of 
the  Ursuline  Convent  nailed  together  a  few 
boards  to  form  a  rough  box.  In  it  was  laid  the 
body  of  the  dead  soldier,  and  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  he  was  carried  to  his  rest.  The  officers 
of  the  garrison  followed  the  bier  and  some  of  the 
populace,  including  women  and  children,  joined 
the  procession  as  it  moved  in  dreary  silence 
along  the  dusky  street,  shattered  with  cannon- 
ball  and  bomb.  A  shell  bursting  under  the  floor 
in  the  chapel  of  the  Ursuline  Convent  had  made 
a  cavity  which  had  been  hollowed  into  a  grave, 
and  here  by  the  light  of  torches  was  buried  the 
heroic  Montcalm. 


Wolfe's  Cove 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         i8r 

The  victors  had  fortified  themselves  on  the 
battlefield.  They  were  still  greatly  outnumbered 
by  the  French,  and  their  victory  was  far  from 
complete.  But  the  enemy  was  so  disconcerted 
by  what  had  happened  that  the  army  was  ordered 
to  begin  an  immediate  retreat.  Quebec  with  its 
little  garrison  was  abandoned  to  its  fate.  The 
cannon  remained  in  the  Beauport  intrench- 
ments,  the  tents  were  left  standing,  and  the 
panic-stricken  troops  neither  carried  away  nor 
destroyed  the  supplies  of  food  in  the  storehouses. 
Utter  confusion  reigned  in  the  fortress,  and  the 
militia  refused  to  fight.  The  commandant  put 
on  a  bold  front  for  a  few  days,  and  when  this 
would  serve  no  longer  he  surrendered. 

Late  in  October  the  English  admiral  fired  a 
parting  salute  and  sailed  down  the  river  carrying 
a  portion  of  the  troops  and  the  embalmed  body 
of  General  Wolfe.  Ten  battalions  with  artillery 
and  a  company  of  rangers  remained  to  hold  the 
ruins  of  Quebec.  They  repaired  the  defences 
and  busied  themselves  in  getting  ready  for 
winter.  It  was  not  easy  to  find  comfortable 
quarters.  In  the  lower  town  little  was  left  save 
scorched  and  crumbling  walls;  and  the  upper 
town  had  also  suffered  much.  Murray,  the 
general    in    command,    was    a    gallant   soldier. 


1 82     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

upright,  humane  and  daring.  He  issued  strict 
orders  against  harming  the  Canadians  in  person 
or  property,  and  he  hanged  a  soldier  who  robbed 
a  citizen.  As  a  rule  the  soldiers  themselves  were 
as  friendly  to  the  conquered  people  as  anyone 
could  ask.  During  harvest  they  helped  the 
French  to  reap  their  fields  and  shared  with  them 
their  tobacco  and  rations. 

Winter  came  with  its  fierce  storms  and  cold. 
The  supply  of  fuel  constantly  fell  short,  and  the 
cutting  of  wood  and  getting  it  to  the  town  was  the 
chief  task  of  the  garrison.  Parties  of  axemen, 
strongly  guarded,  were  always  at  work  in  the 
forest  of  Sainte  Foy,  four  or  five  miles  distant, 
and  thence  the  logs  were  dragged  on  sledges 
by  the  soldiers.  Eight  of  them  were  harnessed 
in  pairs  to  each  sledge;  and  as  there  was  danger 
from  Indians  and  bush-rangers  each  man 
carried  a  musket  slung  on  his  back.  The  garri- 
son was  afflicted  with  scurvy  and  other  diseases, 
and  by  spring  scarcely  more  than  half  of  them 
were  fit  for  duty.  About  seven  hundred  had  been 
temporarily  buried  in  the  snowdrifts.  Toward 
the  end  of  April  a  French  expedition  from 
Montreal  eight  or  nine  thousand  strong  drew 
near  the  town  intent  on  its  recapture.  Murray 
went  out  to  meet  it.     Snow  still  lingered  nearly 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         183 

everywhere,  sodden  with  rain,  and  turned  to 
slush  in  the  hollows.  On  the  plateau  near  the 
Anse  du  Foulon  the  two  armies  encountered. 
At  first  the  English  gained  some  slight  advantage, 
but  at  the  end  of  a  two  hours'  fight  they  had 
lost  a  thousand  men  and  were  driven  back  to 
the  city.  They  were  even  obliged  to  leave  behind 
some  of  their  wounded,  most  of  whom  were 
scalped  and  mangled  by  the  mission  Indians. 
Now  the  fate  of  Quebec  was  again  trembling  in 
the  balance,  and  the  troops  in  the  fortress, 
officers  and  men  alike,  labored  with  barrow,  pick 
and  spade  to  strengthen  the  defences.  But  on 
the  ninth  of  May  a  British  frigate  arrived  before 
the  lower  town  and  saluted  the  garrison.  Such 
was  the  relief  and  joy  of  the  troops  that  they 
mounted  the  parapet  in  the  face  of  the  enemy 
and  huzzaed  and  waved  their  hats  for  almost  an 
hour,  while  the  gunners  made  the  country  round 
reverberate  with  the  discharge  of  their  cannon. 
Other  ships  arrived  a  week  later,  and  two  of  the 
English  vessels  passed  the  town  to  attack  the 
French  vessels  in  the  river  above.  The  latter 
were  all  captured  or  destroyed,  and  as  these 
contained  the  army's  stores  of  food  and  ammu- 
nition, the  besieging  forces  were  obliged  to 
withdraw. 


184     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

Quebec's  next  taste  of  war  came  in  the 
American  Revolution.  The  rebelHng  colonies, 
early  in  the  contest,  aspired  to  the  conquest  of 
Canada,  and  in  August,  1775,  an  expedition  was 
started  down  Lake  Champlain  under  the  com- 
mand of  Richard  Montgomery.  On  the  twelfth 
of  November  he  was  in  possession  of  Montreal 
and  there  issued  a  proclamation  urging  the 
Canadians  to  join  hands  with  the  colonies  in 
the  war. 

Meanwhile  Benedict  Arnold  with  over  a 
thousand  men  was  making  his  way  through 
the  forests  of  Maine  toward  Quebec.  He  and 
his  followers  went  in  boats  up  the  Kennebec.  In 
order  to  reach  the  Chaudiere  which  flows  into 
the  St.  Lawrence  they  had  to  carry  boats,  oars 
and  baggage  on  their  shoulders  a  long  distance 
through  the  tangled  undergrowth  of  the  primeval 
woods.  Before  the  end  of  the  portage  their 
shoes  were  worn  out,  their  clothes  in  tatters  and 
their  food  gone.  Some  small  game  was  shot  and 
they  devoured  their  dogs.  When  they  reached 
the  Chaudiere,  after  a  terrible  march  of  thirty- 
three  days,  many  of  their  number  had  suc- 
cumbed to  starvation,  cold  and  fatigue,  while 
two  hundred  more  had  turned  back  carry- 
ing  with    them    the    sick    and    disabled.      The 


•^ 


^ 


Quebec's  Eventful  History         185 

descent  of  the  Chaudiere  afforded  some  respite, 
and  they  presently  began  to  find  cattle  for 
food. 

They  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  a  little 
above  Quebec,  about  the  middle  of  November, 
crossed  the  broad  St.  Law^rence  and  climbed  to 
the  Plains  of  Abraham  by  the  same  ravine  that 
Wolfe  had  climbed  to  victory.  The  little,  worn- 
out  army,  nov^  reduced  to  seven  hundred  men, 
summoned  the  garrison  of  the  town  to  surrender, 
or  come  out  and  fight;  but  the  garrison  would 
do  neither.  So  Arnold  waited  for  Montgomery 
to  come  from  Montreal.  He  arrived  about  three 
weeks  later  and  it  was  agreed  to  attack  the 
defences.  On  the  last  day  of  the  year  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  in  a  blinding  snowstorm, 
Montgomery  and  Arnold  each  began  a  furious 
attack  on  opposite  sides  of  the  town.  Their 
assault  was  a  surprise;  but  Montgomery  in  the 
narrow  pass  at  the  base  of  Cape  Diamond, 
fighting  his  way  into  the  Lower  Town,  fell  dead, 
pierced  by  three  bullets;  and  his  men,  confused 
by  this  mishap,  hesitated  until  the  enemy  was 
reinforced  and  drove  them  back.  Arnold  was 
almost  equally  unfortunate.  He  was  severely 
wounded  and  carried  from  the  field;  and  though 
some  of  his  men  fought  their  way  far  into  the 


1 86     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

town  this  gallant  invading  party  was  finally 
surrounded  and  captured. 

Arnold  with  the  rest  of  the  troops  remained  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  city  until  spring  when 
he  was  reinforced  and  renewed  the  struggle. 
But  assistance  had  arrived  also  for  the  English, 
so  the  Americans  were  compelled  to  fall  back. 
Montreal  was  retaken,  and  the  remnant  of  the 
invading  army,  after  a  hazardous  retreat,  reached 
Crown  Point. 

The  defeat  of  Montgomery  and  Arnold  was 
celebrated  in  Quebec  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
fight  for  twenty-five  years  afterward  by  ban- 
quettings,  dances,  military  reviews  and  religious 
services.  An  officer  present  at  the  thanksgiving 
ceremonies  conducted  by  the  bishop  in  the 
cathedral  on  the  first  anniversary  records  that: 
"Eight  unfortunate  Canadians  who  had  sided 
with  the  rebels  were  present  with  ropes  about 
their  necks,  and  were  forced  to  do  penance 
before  all  in  the  church,  and  crave  pardon  of 
their  God,  Church  and  King." 


X 

THE    QUEBEC    OF   THE    PRESENT 

OUEBEC  is  the  quaintest  of  all  American 
cities.  It  is  superbly  situated  on  the  end 
of  a  high,  narrow  ridge  that  rises  between  the 
St.  Lawrence  and  the  river  St.  Charles,  which 
flows  into  the  greater  stream  a  little  to  the  east 
of  the  bluff.  The  boldness  of  its  site,  its  romantic 
history,  and  its  Old  World  appearance  combine 
to  give  it  a  very  exceptional  charm.  A  walled 
fortification  with  gates  surrounds  its  more  ancient 
portion,  and  this  part  of  the  town  with  its  narrow 
thoroughfares  and  frowning  battlements  is  like 
a  fragment  of  medieval  Europe,  pervaded  by 
the  atmosphere  of  departed  centuries. 

The  magnificence  of  the  town's  position  with 
the  noble  river  flowing  at  its  base  cannot  help 
impressing  all  beholders.  Especially  noteworthy 
in  the  landscape  are  the  long  dark  lines  of  the 
world-famed  citadel  at  the  summit  of  the  cliff. 
You  can  travel  a  score  of  miles  up  or  down  the 
St.  Lawrence,  or  ramble  nearly  as  far  amid  the 
hills  on  either  side,  and  a  chance  look  backward 


1 88     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

still  reveals  the  fortifications  looming  against 
the  sky. 

I  arrived  at  Quebec  in  the  evening.  The 
railway  station  was  behind  the  clifF  away  from 
the  river,  and  when  I  presently  started  out  to 
explore  I  at  once  began  climbing.  How  steep 
the  streets  were,  and  how  crooked!  The  chimes 
were  ringing  in  one  of  the  big  churches  as  I 
wended  through  the  irregular  ways,  and  I  felt 
as  if  I  was  in  London  or  Edinburgh.  I  kept  on 
mounting  higher  and  higher  till  at  last  I  came 
to  a  vast  gloomy  height  crowned  by  masses  of 
stonework  that  I  recognized  as  military  buildings 
and  fortifications.  Then  I  turned  aside  and 
went  down  to  a  less  ambitious  elevation  and  at 
length  found  myself  on  DufFerin  Terrace,  over- 
looking the  old  town  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff  and 
the  dark  river  beyond. 

I  was  delighted  with  Quebec  that  night,  and 
I  was  no  less  pleased  with  it  by  daylight.  How 
strange  that  there  should  be  such  a  place  in 
the  midst  of  our  American  landscape!  The 
air  and  sky,  and  the  appearance  of  the  trees  and 
the  country  roundabout  were  familiar  enough; 
but  the  buildings  and  the  streets  and  the  lan- 
guage were  foreign.  As  a  matter  of  fact  nine 
tenths  of  the   people   are   French   and   Roman 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        189 

Catholics,  and  many  of  the  humbler  class  can 
neither  speak  nor  understand  English. 

A  favorite  method  of  seeing  the  city  is  to  drive 
about  in  a  caleche — a  crazy-looking  two-v^heeled 
vehicle,  but  w^ith  an  antique  individuality  that 
makes  it  popular  v^ith  tourists.  Indeed,  it  is 
only  their  patronage  that  keeps  it  from  becoming 
obsolete.  The  vpheels  are  very  large  and  heavy, 
and  the  body,  v^hich  is  suspended  between  them 
on  broad  leather  straps,  has  a  peculiar  but  gentle 
motion.  Under  the  hood  of  the  caleche  is  a 
seat  v^ith  room  for  two  persons,  and  in  front  is 
the  narrow  seat  of  the  driver.  It  is  certainly 
a  somewhat  awkward  contrivance,  and  one 
citizen  remarked  to  me  that  the  man  who  in- 
vented it  ought  to  have  been  hung;  yet  it  lifts 
you  above  the  height  of  ordinary  carriages,  and 
this  at  least  is  an  advantage  for  sightseeing. 

The  portion  of  the  city  that  skirts  the  base  of 
the  cliff  is  known  as  the  Lower  Town,  while  that 
on  the  height  is  called  the  Upper  Town.  Narrow 
as  is  the  space  where  the  ancient  Lower  Town 
stands  between  the  beetling  crag  and  the  St. 
Lawrence,  it  was  formerly  much  narrower;  for 
a  considerable  portion  of  its  present  width  has 
been  reclaimed  from  the  river.  To  the  westward 
it  soon   becomes   more  attenuated,  and  there  is 


190     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

room  for  only  a  single  street  that  skirts  around 
the  foot  of  Cape  Diamond,  hugging  the  cliff  as 
if  for  safety. 

Cape  Diamond,  whose  precipitous  uplift  is 
crowned  with  the  citadel,  takes  its  name  from 
the  numerous  sparkling  quartz  crystals  found 
embedded  in  its  rock.  This  massive,  defiant, 
outjutting  crag  could  not  fail  to  greatly  impress 
the  early  explorers.  "Que  bee!"  (What  a  beak) 
one  of  Cartier's  followers  is  said  to  have  ex- 
claimed as  the  first  expedition  up  the  river 
approached  the  cliff;  and  thus,  according  to 
this  tradition,  was  the  height  and  the  future  city 
named. 

Some  students,  however,  think  the  name  was 
derived  from  an  Indian  word  meaning  "the 
narrows" — a  reference  to  the  river,  which  is  here 
contracted  to  much  less  than  its  usual  width. 
The  cliff  had  a  wilderness  setting  then,  where 
now  we  see  clustering  roofs,  ramparts,  fortified 
walls,  pointed  spires  and  ominous  muzzles  of 
cannon.  But  the  face  of  the  rock,  with  its  rugged 
grimness  somewhat  softened  by  scattered  shrub- 
bery, presented  much  the  same  appearance  it 
does  today. 

In  the  heart  of  the  Lower  Town  is  the  Cham- 
plain  Market  Hall,  a  big  gray  stone  building 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        191 

fronting  an  open  square  where  the  wives  of  the 
French  Canadian  farmers  gather  with  their 
wares  on  market  days.  There  they  sit  or  stand, 
selling  the  produce  of  their  gardens  and  dairies, 
which  they  have  brought  in  the  boxes  and  bags 
by  which  they  are  surrounded.  A  fleet  of  small 
steamers  lying  five  or  six  abreast  at  the  market 
wharf  has  served  the  country  women  and  their 
produce  as  a  conveyance  from  their  riverside 
homes. 

While  I  stood  watching  the  scene  one  day  my 
attention  was  attracted  by  a  woman  who  went 
from  one  display  of  produce  to  another  critically 
examining  what  was  shown  and  haggling  for 
lower  prices.  A  townsman  standing  near  me 
was  observing  her  also,  and  he  said:  "They  will 
not  make  much  out  of  her.  She  is  a  Jewess. 
Many  Jews  have  come  to  Quebec  in  recent  years, 
and  they  are  getting  to  control  more  and  more  of 
the  business.  A  man  will  reach  here  in  rags,  but 
pretty  soon  he  will  have  a  little  stock  of  things 
to  sell  which  he  carries  around  in  handbags  from 
door  to  door.  In  five  years  you  will  find  he  has 
a  shop  in  the  town." 

Just  as  he  finished  this  explanation  a  man 
came  along  in  a  great  hurry  and  asked  the  way 
to  the  wharf  of  a  certain  steamboat  line.     My 


192     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

companion  replied,  and  the  man  bustled  away. 
"That  was  a  blasted  Englishman,"  said  my 
acquaintance.  "  I  have  to  be  around  the  wharves 
a  good  deal  of  the  time,  and  strangers  are  forever 
asking  me  questions.  Some  of  the  questions  are 
downright  foolish.  Why,  the  other  day  a  fellow 
asked  me  if  I  spoke  United  States.  'What  the 
dickens  kind  of  a  language  is  that  ?'  I  said." 

Of  all  the  many  narrow  streets  of  old  Quebec 
the  queerest  is  Sous  le  Cap.  It  skirts  the 
easterly  base  of  the  cliff,  winding  about  the 
irregularities  and  having  some  added  angles  of 
its  own.  So  narrow  is  it  that  in  most  parts  two 
carts  could  not  pass  each  other.  Clotheslines 
extend  across  overhead,  and  it  is  spanned  by 
many  closed-in  passages  that  reach  from  one 
upper  story  to  that  opposite,  and  dark  little 
alleys  connect  it  with  the  next  street  below.  As 
a  final  touch  the  children  of  the  street  follow  the 
stranger  begging  for  pennies. 

The  only  roadway  leading  to  the  Upper  Town, 
unless  you  go  a  considerable  distance  back  from 
the  St.  Lawrence,  is  Cote  de  la  Montagne  or 
Mountain  Street,  and  this  has  not  been  passable 
for  carriages  until  comparatively  recent  years. 
It  is  a  stiff  climb  up  its  winding  way,  but  this  is 
easier  than  to  go  up  by  the  still  steeper  stairways. 


'^^IKmL. 


The  Champlain  Monument 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        193 

The  most  notable  of  the  latter  form  of  thorough- 
fare is  what  is  known  as  the  Breakneck  Stairs 
close  by  the  Dufferin  Terrace.  This  has  one 
hundred  and  sixty-four  steps.  The  flight  of 
stairs  is  fairly  wide  and  is  divided  by  a  number 
of  iron  railings  for  hand  supports.  These 
railings  also  serve  as  a  means  of  descent  for  the 
boys,  who  sit  on  them  sideways  and  go  down 
with  astonishing  velocity.  Such  use  has  given 
the  iron  a  polished  smoothness  that  is  quite 
noticeable. 

A  short  walk  from  the  upper  end  of  the  stairs 
brings  one  to  DufFerin  Terrace,  Quebec's  famous 
promenade.  This  is  half  way  up  the  northern 
slope  of  the  bluff,  nearly  two  hundred  feet  above 
the  river  which  it  fronts.  It  is  a  planked  plat- 
form about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  and  the 
roofs  and  wharves  of  the  old  town  under  the 
cliff  are  immediately  below. 

A  disastrous  landslide  occurred  from  the  face 
of  the  rock  that  supports  its  southern  end  in  1889. 
There  had  been  a  good  deal  of  rainy  weather, 
and  the  water  evidently  worked  its  way  deep 
into  a  fault  in  the  rock.  Thus  a  great  mass  was 
loosened,  and  between  eight  and  nine  o'clock 
one  September  evening  it  slid  down  and  crashed 
into  a  line  of  tenement  houses  on  the  other  side 


194     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

of  the  road  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  Most  of  the 
inmates  were  hurled  into  eternity  without  a 
moment's  notice.  The  rocks  and  earth  have 
never  been  entirely  cleared  away,  and  the  road 
here  is  several  feet  higher  than  its  natural  level. 
Some  of  the  adjoining  homes  still  stand  partially 
wrecked  and  the  rocks  that  collided  with  their 
walls  lie  just  where  they  stopped.  A  portion  of 
the  masonry  of  the  fortress  came  down  in  the 
slide.  The  break  has  been  mended,  but  there  is 
some  fear  that  the  adjacent  end  of  Dufferin 
Terrace  may  slough  off,  and  the  public  is  barred 
from  venturing  on  the  doubtful  portion. 

Back  of  the  Terrace,  in  the  governor's  garden, 
is  a  twin-faced  monument  in  honor  of  the 
illustrious  contending  generals,  Wolfe  and  Mont- 
calm, who  both  won  immortal  fame  and  met 
death  at  nearly  the  same  time.  The  monument 
is  said  to  be  "strictly  classical"  in  all  its  pro- 
portions, and  therefore,  I  suppose,  ought  to  be 
admired  as  a  thing  of  beauty;  but,  be  that  as  it 
may,  it  is  certainly  noteworthy  from  the  unusual 
fact  of  its  being  erected  to  honor  both  the  victor 
and  the  vanquished. 

Not  far  distant  from  this  spot  is  the  post- 
office,  a  massive  stone  building  that  has  above 
its  entrance  the  rudely  carved  gilded  image  of 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        195 

a  dog  gnawing  a  bone.  You  wonder  what  can 
be  the  significance  of  this  curious  tablet.  Ac- 
cording to  a  long-cherished  tradition,  Philibert, 
the  proprietor  of  the  old  house  that  formerly 
stood  on  this  site  had  some  quarrel  with  an 
officer  named  Legardeur,  and  placed  the  tablet 
in  the  front  wall  of  his  dwelling  accompanied 
by  four  menacing  lines  which  may  be  translated 
thus: 

I  am  a  dog  gnawing  a  bone. 
While  I  gnaw  I  take  my  repose. 
The  time  will  come,  though  not  yet. 
When  I  will  bite  him  who  bites  me. 

Some  declare  that  Philibert  was  assassinated 
by  Legardeur,  and  that  Philibert's  brother  pur- 
sued the  assassin  to  Europe,  and  later  to  the 
East  Indies  where  he  slew  him. 

On  the  upland  are  many  notable  buildings, 
among  which  should  be  mentioned  the  Arch- 
bishop's Palace  and  the  Basilica.  The  latter  is 
the  city's  largest  church.  It  may  be  said  to  have 
been  begun  in  1645  when  the  governor  and  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  appropriated  twelve 
hundred  and  fifty  beaver  skins  toward  the  cost 
of  its  construction.  The  building  was  ready 
for   partial   use   five  years   later,    but  was   not 


196     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

definitely  opened  until  1657.  Since  then  it  has 
never  closed  its  doors  except  for  the  making  of 
repairs  after  the  siege  of  1759.  It  suffered  much 
in  the  several  w^ars,  but  the  foundations  and 
parts  of  the  walls  are  the  same  as  at  first.  The 
rarest  pictures  in  the  city  hang  in  the  Basilica, 
and  include  various  canvases  from  some  of 
Europe's  most  famous  masters.  In  the  Semi- 
nary Chapel  adjoining  the  Basilica  are  a  number 
of  supposed  relics  of  Christ — portions  of  the  cross, 
and  of  the  crow^n  of  thorns  and  seamless  robe. 

Both  the  Basilica  and  the  Chapel  face  on  the 
old  market-place,  where,  in  by-gone  times  the 
rustic  housewives  used  to  sit  in  their  carts  or 
sleighs  on  market  days  peddling  out  their  farm 
produce  to  the  townspeople.  What  varied  scenes 
this  old  square  has  witnessed — tragic,  gay, 
martial  and  religious!  Here  formerly  stood  the 
pillory  used  for  the  punishment  of  thieves  and 
perjurers;   and  many  a  victim  did  penance  in  it. 

The  older  part  of  the  city  on  the  height  is  still 
a  walled  town.  Under  French  dominion  five 
gates  pierced  the  fortifications,  and  the  English 
added  two  more;  but  these  have  all  been  re- 
moved, and  the  two  modern  substitutes  appear 
altogether  too  trim  and  youthful  to  have  any 
sentiment  about  them. 


Sous  le  Cap  Sti 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        197 

A  short  walk  west  of  the  St.  Louis  Gate  is  a 
height  of  land,  now  known  as  Perreault's  Hill, 
which  up  to  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century 
was  the  general  place  of  execution  in  Quebec. 
One  romantic  story  connected  with  it  relates 
how  a  certain  French  soldier  here  cheated  the 
gallows,  shortly  before  the  British  conquest. 
The  crime  for  which  he  had  been  condemned 
was  the  murder  of  a  comrade  who  had  been 
known  in  Quebec  as  a  very  bad  character.  The 
previous  good  conduct  of  the  murderer  and  the 
circumstances  that  led  to  his  deed  won  him  the 
sympathy  of  the  community,  and  a  number  of 
his  friends,  including  his  Father  Confessor, 
plotted  to  save  his  life.  On  the  way  to  the  place 
of  execution  this  priest  exhibited  a  tender 
affection  for  the  condemned  man,  embracing 
him  warmly,  with  his  arms  about  the  criminal's 
neck.  In  one  hand,  however,  he  had  a  small 
bottle  of  nitric  acid  with  which  he  carefully 
soaked  the  cord  that  had  been  put  in  position 
ready  to  serve  as  the  instrument  of  the  prisoner's 
death.  They  arrived  at  the  gallows  and  the 
fateful  moment  came  when  the  murderer  was  to 
drop  to  his  death.  But  the  corroded  rope  gave 
way,  and  the  man's  friends  who  had  crowded 
around  the  scaffold  quickly  opened  a  passage  for 


198     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

his  escape.  As  soon  as  he  had  run  through 
they  promptly  closed  up  their  ranks  to  prevent 
the  soldiers  from  following  him.  The  ruse  was 
successful;  for  the  fugitive,  after  hiding  a  few 
days  in  a  cooper's  shop  of  the  Lower  Town, 
made  good  his  escape  to  France,  the  cooper 
having  put  him  on  board  a  departing  vessel  in 
a  barrel. 

Quebec's  important  place  in  history  has 
rested  primarily  on  the  fact  that  here  was  one 
of  the  most  impregnable  positions  of  defence 
in  the  world.  Of  all  the  strongholds  in  British 
territory  this  is  only  excelled  by  Gibraltar.  The 
citadel,  which  faces  the  St.  Lawrence  on  the 
highest  part  of  the  bluff,  three  hundred  and 
forty  feet  above  the  river,  covers  an  enclosed 
area  of  forty  acres  and  was  built  from  plans 
approved  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  The 
main  approach  to  it  is  up  the  steep  hill  from  the 
St.  Louis  Gate  through  a  labyrinth  of  high  walls 
and  earthworks  that  are  loopholed  for  musketry, 
and  pierced  with  openings  where  gleam  the 
mouths  of  cannon. 

When  the  French  erected  their  wooden  forti- 
fications on  the  height,  so  much  money  disap- 
peared in  the  process,  not  a  little  of  it  absorbed 
by  graft,  that  Louis  XIV  is  reported  to  have 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        199 

asked  whether  the  defences  of  Quebec  were 
built  of  gold.  The  present  citadel  dates  back 
to  1823,  at  which  time  the  sum  of  twenty-five 
million  dollars  was  expended  on  it.  Its  con- 
struction is  very  massive,  and  many  of  the  build- 
ings are  considered  bomb-proof.  Underground 
passages  are  alleged  to  communicate  with  cer- 
tain localities  outside  of  the  fortress,  but  knowl- 
edge of  these  is  not  for  general  diffusion. 

Visitors  are  halted  beneath  the  arch  of  the 
entrance  by  an  armed  guard,  and  a  soldier  is 
detailed  to  show  them  around.  The  outer 
buildings  are  half  buried  in  the  earth,  and  the 
green  turf  overgrows  the  roofs.  It  seemed  as  if 
a  foe  would  have  small  chance  of  seriously  dam- 
aging them,  and  the  entire  aspect  of  the  place  is 
satisfactorily  grim  and  stout.  Of  especial  inter- 
est to  visitors  from  the  States  is  a  little  bronze 
cannon  captured  at  Bunker  Hill.  "You've  got 
the  cannon,  but  we've  got  the  hill,"  remarked 
one  Yankee  to  his  guide. 

"Yes,"  responded  the  guide,  "but  if  the  hill 
had  been  on  wheels  as  the  cannon  was,  we'd 
have  carried  that  off  too." 

The  garrison  is  Canadian  and  numbers  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five,  a  man  for  every  day  in 
the  year  apparently,  and  I  suppose  an  extra 


200     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

one  is  added  on  leap  years.  They  are  not  called 
on  to  do  much  strenuous  work,  and  are  free  to 
use  their  time  as  they  please  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  each  day.  There  is  no  anxiety  on  their 
part  as  to  where  their  food  and  clothes  are  to 
come  from,  and  the  worst  evil  that  is  likely  to 
befall  a  man  is  a  temporary  lodgment  behind 
the  bars  of  the  citadel  jail  for  drunkenness. 

From  an  angle  of  the  outer  ramparts  known 
as  the  King's  Bastion  one  gets  the  most  imposing 
view  of  the  river  that  Quebec  affords.  The 
downlook  from  amid  the  cannon  onto  the  town 
and  the  great  river  and  the  broad  landscape  be- 
yond is  truly  magnificent. 

At  the  foot  of  the  lofty  cliff  a  narrow  road 
winds  along  westward  in  and  out  of  the  irregu- 
larities with  an  almost  continuous  line  of  quaint 
old  houses  on  either  side.  The  dwellings  are  apt 
to  be  decrepit  and  shabby,  yet  they  are  nearly 
all  occupied.  Ancient  rotting  wharves  reach  out 
into  the  river,  and  both  these  and  the  buildings 
are  suggestive  of  a  prosperous  and  lively  past. 
This  road  furnishes  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
rides  or  walks  in  the  Quebec  vicinity,  and  at 
the  end  of  about  a  mile  it  takes  you  to  Wolfe's 
Cove.  By  then  the  houses  have  ceased,  and  here 
is  a  slight  inreach  of  the  river,  and  a  heavily 


Quebec — //  Caleche 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        201 

wooded  glen  makes  a  break  in  the  giant  wall  of 
the  bluff.  It  is  a  steep,  hard  climb  to  the  upland, 
even  with  the  carefully  graded  road  to  make 
the  way  easier.  At  the  top  you  come  forth  on  the 
Plains  of  Abraham,  now  mostly  laid  out  in 
streets,  and  having  numerous  trees  and  many 
suburban  homes  to  intercept  the  view.  Half 
way  back  to  the  town  is  a  monument  marking 
the  spot  where  "Wolfe  died  victorious."  This 
is  on  the  verge  of  a  public  park — a  large  dreary 
common  which  has  much  the  character  of  the 
original  Plains  as  they  were  when  the  battle 
was  fought.  From  there  you  can  look  off  on  the 
dreamy  river  with  its  bordering  towns  and  boats 
coming  and  going;  and  on  its  far  side,  some- 
what up  the  stream,  you  can  see  the  ruins  of  the 
monster  Quebec  Railway  Bridge. 

This  was  to  span  the  St.  Lawrence  at  a  height 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  water. 
Toward  the  end  of  August,  1907,  a  long  arm  of 
it  reaching  out  from  the  south  shore  went  down. 
Signs  of  weakness  had  been  observed  some  time 
previous,  and  many  of  the  workmen  had  refused 
to  go  out  on  it.  The  catastrophe  occurred 
within  a  few  minutes  of  five  o'clock,  at  which 
hour  work  would  have  ceased  for  the  day.    The 


202     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

noise  of  the  fall  was  like  thunder  and  was  heard 
for  miles.  Over  seventy  men  were  hurled  to 
death,  and  only  two  of  those  who  went  down 
survived.  Those  who  perished  were  mostly 
from  the  States  and  were  reputed  to  be  the  finest 
workmen  in  the  world,  whose  places  could  not 
be  filled.  "I  didn't  care  a  hang  about  the 
bridge,"  one  of  my  informants  remarked — 
"that  could  have  gone  and  welcome  if  it  hadn't 
carried  the  men  to  destruction,  too." 

One  of  the  historic  suburbs  of  Quebec  is  Cap 
Rouge,  about  ten  miles  west.  I  went  thither  by 
a  stage  that  left  the  post  oflSce  late  one  summer 
afternoon.  The  vehicle  was  a  rude  sort  of  an 
omnibus  with  a  long  seat  extending  lengthwise 
on  either  side.  Both  seats  were  filled  with 
women  passengers  who  carried  numerous  baskets 
and  bundles  and  I  sat  in  front  with  the  driver 
amid  a  heap  of  mailbags.  The  load  was  a  heavy 
one  for  the  two  horses,  and  the  driver  kept 
uneasily  urging  them  forward,  jerking  his  reins, 
chirruping  or  speaking  to  them,  and  now  and 
then  mildly  flicking  them  with  his  whip.  We 
paused  at  intervals  to  let  off  or  take  on  passen- 
gers, deliver  mail,  and  once  to  pay  at  a  toll  gate. 
The  road  was  hard  and  well-graded,  and  it  was 


The  Quebec  of  the  Present        203 

pleasantly  lined  by  trees  and  shrubbery.  All 
the  way  we  were  on  the  upland  until  we  ap- 
proached Cap  Rouge,  which  is  a  little  place  in 
a  glen  that  opens  out  on  the  St.  Lawrence.  Here 
we  made  a  steep  descent  of  a  long  hill,  and 
midway  a  polestrap  broke  and  let  the  heavy 
wagon  run  onto  the  heels  of  the  horses.  There 
was  panic  among  the  women  passengers,  and 
though  the  driver  quickly  brought  his  vehicle  to 
a  stop  by  applying  the  brake,  they  all  piled  out 
at  the  rear  and  walked  the  rest  of  the  way. 
Cap  Rouge  proved  to  be  a  delightful  little  nook, 
as  secluded  and  peaceful  as  one  could  wish;  but 
a  good  deal  marred  by  a  gigantic  railroad  trestle 
that  strides  across  the  valley. 

On  the  beach  at  St.  Augustin,  a  few  miles 
farther  up  the  river  is  a  deserted  church,  built 
in  1648,  that  the  devil  in  the  shape  of  a  horse  is 
said  to  have  assisted  in  constructing.  This 
horse  was  employed  in  carting  immense  stones 
that  were  beyond  the  power  of  an  ordinary  horse 
to  move.  Those  in  charge  of  it  were  careful 
never  to  take  off  its  bridle,  as  it  was  understood 
that  in  the  bridle  was  the  magic  power  which  kept 
the  horse  to  its  task.  At  last,  however,  a  work- 
maa  who  was  watering  the  horse  thoughtlessly 


204     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

removed  the  bridle  to  allow  the  creature  to  drink 
better.  Immediately  the  beast  disappeared  in 
a  cloud  of  burning  sulphur. 

Nowhere  in  the  St.  Lawrence  Valley  is  there 
a  region  so  rich  in  legend  as  this  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Quebec,  and  not  a  little  of  its  charm  is 
due  to  these  quaint  stories  that  have  come  down 
from  the  shadowy  past. 


XI 

FROM   CAPE    DIAMOND   TO   THE    GULF 

JUST  below  Quebec  is  the  great  Isle  of 
Orleans,  originally  christened  by  Cartier  the 
"Isle  of  Bacchus"  on  account  of  the  great  pro- 
fusion of  vines  and  grapes  there.  It  was  also 
for  a  long  time  commonly  known  as  "Wizards' 
Isle,"  in  the  belief  that  the  Indians  who  in- 
habited it  were  in  such  close  touch  with  nature 
they  could  predict  with  certainty  the  coming  of 
a  storm  or  a  high  tide.  Some  persons  claimed 
that  at  night  phantom  lights  played  over  the 
island  shores  and  near  waters.  The  white  in- 
habitants were  much  alarmed  by  this  report 
until  it  was  found  that  the  "spirit  lights"  were 
torches  in  the  hands  of  dusky  fishermen.  Un- 
canny stories  long  continued  to  be  told,  but  now 
the  peaceful  and  attractive  isle  with  its  villages 
and  farms  is  quite  free  from  all  suggestion  of 
supernatural  visitants. 

On  the  mainland  opposite  the  west  end  of  the 
island  are  the  far-famed  Falls  of  Montmorency. 
They  are  in  plain  sight  from  the  St.  Lawrence, 


2o6     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

set  back  in  a  rounded  niche  of  the  high  northern 
shore.  The  Falls  are  nearly  a  hundred  feet 
higher  than  those  of  Niagara,  but  the  less 
emphasis  the  visitor  puts  on  this  fact  the  better; 
for  the  tendency  is  not  to  think  of  the  actual 
beauty  of  the  Falls,  but  to  compare  them  dis- 
paragingly with  the  tremendous  volume  of 
Niagara  and  doubt  if  they  are  really  as  high  as 
is  claimed.  One  does  not  get  near  enough 
below  to  correctly  take  in  the  immensity  of  the 
leap  made  by  the  stream,  which  for  the  whole 
two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  of  its  perpendicular 
fall  is  broken  into  white  and  fleecy  foam  on  the 
face  of  the  rock.  Then  it  spreads  itself  in  broad 
thin  sheets  over  a  floor  of  stones  and  gravel, 
and  slips  tamely  away  to  the  St.  Lawrence. 

There  was  formerly  a  suspension  bridge  over 
the  river  at  the  very  brink  of  the  Falls;  but  some 
fifty  or  more  years  ago  it  broke  away  from  its 
moorings  and  was  swept  over  the  cataract, 
carrying  with  it  an  unfortunate  farmer  and  his 
family  who  were  driving  across.  The  bodies 
were  never  recovered,  for  all  objects  passing 
over  the  Falls  disappear  in  a  subterranean 
cavity  worn  by  the  constant  pounding  of  the 
water.  The  stone  piers  of  the  bridge  still 
remain. 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf    207 

By  no  means  all  the  flow  of  the  river  is  allowed 
to  go  over  the  wild,  wooded  cliff  simply  to 
furnish  a  spectacle  for  sightseers.  There  is  a 
dam  at  the  crest  and  enough  of  the  water  is 
deflected  to  furnish  power  for  lighting  the  city 
of  Quebec. 

An  electric  railway  makes  the  Falls  easily 
accessible,  and  it  continues  many  miles  farther 
down  the  shore.  The  outlook  from  the  car 
windows  gives  an  excellent  opportunity  for 
observing  to  advantage  the  farms  characteristic 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  waterside.  These  v/ere 
originally  of  considerable  breadth,  but  large 
families  necessitated  subdivision  when  the  land 
was  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation, 
and  as  every  proprietor  desired  a  frontage  on 
the  river,  the  strips  have  become  marvellously 
narrow. 

On  these  farms  can  be  seen  the  typical 
Canadian  country  dwelling.  It  is  a  low  modest 
structure  with  a  roof  that  ends  at  the  eaves  in 
a  sudden  outward  curve,  like  that  of  a  Chinese 
pagoda.  Such  roofs  are  not,  however,  confined 
to  the  country,  for  costly  brick  or  stone  houses 
in  the  towns  often  have  the  same  peculiarity. 
One  cannot  help  fancying  that  the  reason  of  it 
may  be  in  the  climate  and  that  the  curve  was 


2o8     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

originated  to  shoot  the  sliding  snow  farther 
away  from  the  dwelling.  The  projection  is  an 
eflScient  protection  to  doors  and  windows  with- 
out interfering  seriously  with  the  light,  and  in 
many  cases  it  covers  a  veranda. 

Twenty  miles  from  Quebec  on  this  north  shore 
we  arrive  at  St.  Anne  de  Beaupre  where  over 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pilgrims  resort 
annually  to  pay  their  devotions  at  this  shrine 
of  world-wide  fame.  The  shrine  is  the  chief 
support  of  the  railway,  which  has  been  solemnly 
consecrated  and  blessed  by  the  cardinal,  as  have 
even  the  cars  in  which  the  pilgrims  travel. 

The  village  is  rather  a  garish  looking  place 
with  its  big  church  and  its  chapels  and  other 
buildings  of  a  religious  nature,  its  huddle  of 
hotels  and  souvenir  shops.  It  has  a  striking 
setting  in  the  landscape  ;  for  immediately  behind 
is  an  abrupt  and  lofty  hill,  and  to  the  east  is  a 
succession  of  wild  mountain  promontories  reach- 
ing out  into  the  river.  But  the  river  shore  oppo- 
site the  town  is  a  gently  inclined  beach,  reed- 
grown  in  its  higher  portion,  and  muddy  and 
stone-strewn  where  the  tide  exposes  it  beyond. 

St.  Anne,  in  whose  honor  the  great  church 
just  back  from  the  waterside  was  built,  was  the 
mother  of  the  Virgin  Mary.     When  she  died 


^ 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  209 

she  was  buried  in  Jerusalem.  Later  the  infidels 
overran  the  Holy  Land  pillaging  and  destroying, 
and  they  dragged  the  coffin  of  St.  Anne  forth 
from  its  tomb,  but  could  neither  open  nor  burn 
it.  So  they  threw  it  into  the  sea,  and  it  floated 
away  to  the  town  of  Apt  in  France  on  the  shore 
of  the  Mediterranean.  There  it  lay  for  a  long 
time  buried  in  the  sand.  One  day  some  fisher- 
men of  Apt  caught  in  their  net  an  enormous 
fish.  They  dragged  it  to  the  land,  and  before 
they  succeeded  in  killing  it,  the  fish  in  its 
struggling  made  a  deep  hole  in  the  sand  and 
laid  bare  the  coffin  of  St.  Anne.  The  fishermen 
tried  to  open  the  coffin,  but  did  not  succeed  any 
better  than  had  the  infidels  in  the  Holy  Land. 
They  informed  the  bishop,  Aurelius,  of  this 
strange  phenomenon,  and  he  had  the  coffin 
walled  into  a  crypt  of  the  church.  In  the  course 
of  time  St.  Anne  became  the  patroness  of  Brit- 
tany, and  presently  it  began  to  be  rumored  that 
at  Auray  where  a  shrine  had  been  dedicated  to 
her  she  performed  miraculous  cures  for  those 
who  trusted  her. 

A  few  years  after  the  founding  of  Quebec  a 
crew  of  Briton  sailors,  voyaging  to  the  new  world, 
were  buffeted  by  a  terrible  tempest  and  vowed 
they  would  build  a  shrine  in  honor  of  St.  Anne, 


210     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

if  she  guided  them  safely  through  the  storm. 
They  survived  the  gale,  and  when  they  landed 
on  the  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence  at  the  spot 
where  now  stands  the  beautiful  Basilica  they 
erected  a  little  wooden  chapel  in  fulfillment  of 
their  promise.  At  the  time  this  primitive  edifice 
was  rebuilt  in  1660,  one  of  the  villagers  of 
Beaupre  who  desired  to  help  in  the  work  was 
a  man  suffering  much  bodily  pain.  He  thought 
he  would  have  the  strength  to  show  his  devotion 
by  laying  three  stones  of  the  foundation,  but 
dared  hope  for  nothing  more.  While  he  was 
engaged  in  the  task,  however,  the  pain  suddenly 
left  him.  His  cure  was  attributed  to  St.  Anne, 
and  a  woman  who  had  been  bent  double  by 
some  affliction  for  eight  months  began  to  invoke 
the  saint  as  soon  as  she  heard  of  the  miracle, 
and  was  instantly  as  well  able  to  stand  on  her 
feet  and  move  her  limbs  as  she  had  ever  been. 

Miracle  after  miracle  followed  until  the  rude 
little  hamlet  was  the  talk  of  all  New  France. 
Pilgrims  in  great  numbers  began  to  resort  to 
St.  Anne  de  Beaupre,  and  many  journeyed 
thither  even  in  winter,  travelling  on  the  frozen 
river  in  their  sleighs.  Before  the  great  annual 
feast  day  of  the  saint  the  Micmac  Indians  who 
came  regularly  from  New  Brunswick  to  trade, 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  211 

would  be  seen  in  their  canoes  paddling  up 
stream  to  the  shrine,  where  they  built  birch 
bark  huts  to  shelter  the  pilgrims.  The  peculiar 
fame  of  the  place  appealed  especially  to  the 
sea-faring  folk,  and  it  was  a  regular  custom  of 
vessels  ascending  the  St.  Lawrence  to  fire  a 
broadside  salute  when  passing. 

One  legend  of  the  place  is  that  the  English 
troops  in  waging  war  against  the  French  once 
took  possession  of  the  village  and  burned  all 
of  it  except  the  church.  Three  times  they  set 
fire  to  the  building,  but  their  efforts  did  not 
avail  against  the  protecting  spirit  of  good 
St.  Anne. 

To  the  Canadian  peasantry  St.  Anne  de 
Beaupre  became  and  still  is  as  sacred  as  was 
Jerusalem  to  the  Jews,  and  they  resort  to  the 
shrine  to  be  cured  of  all  the  various  ills  to  which 
the  flesh  is  heir.  They  believe  that  miracles  are 
wrought  here  just  as  in  Bible  times.  The  blind 
are  made  to  see,  the  deaf  to  hear,  the  lame  to 
walk  with  ease,  and  strength  and  vigor  are 
restored  to  those  nigh  to  death.  All  this  is  done 
through  the  intercession  of  the  good  St.  Anne, 
one  of  whose  finger  bones  in  a  glass  case  is 
shown  and  venerated  at  the  Basilica.  There  is 
also  shown,  among  other  treasures,  a  piece  of 


212     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

rock  from  the  grotto  in  which  the  virgin  Mary 
was  born. 

The  sanctity  of  devotion  and  the  marvels  of 
the  miraculous  permeate  the  whole  atmosphere 
of  St.  Anne  de  Beaupre.  But  while  many  of  the 
visitors  have  come  to  get  nearer  the  Deity,  who 
they  think  works  miracles  here  which  neither 
prayers  nor  piety  would  elicit  elsewhere,  others 
come  to  contemplate  what  seems  to  them  merely 
a  strange  manifestation  of  human  nature  with 
possibly  some  occult  significance  which  they 
cannot  fathom.  But  whatever  it  is  that  brought 
them,  the  character  of  the  place  is  calculated  to 
stir  the  emotions  and  make  the  fervor  of  the 
devout  more  fervent  and  subdue  the  critical. 

In  front  of  the  church  is  a  wide  yard  with 
lawn  and  shrubbery  at  the  far  side,  but  the 
nearer  half  is  an  expanse  of  pebbles  that  shift 
disagreeably  under  the  feet.  The  church 
interior  is  rich  in  color,  and  its  dim  light,  its 
kneeling  worshippers  and  wandering  sightseers, 
and  its  shaven  monks  with  their  brown  robes  and 
sandaled  feet  combine  to  make  a  strange  picture. 
The  visitors  are  of  many  nationalities,  and  for 
their  edification  the  priests  in  charge  of  the  church 
deliver  sermons  in  German,  Italian,  Dutch  and 
Spanish  as  well  as  in  English  and  French. 


The  sacred  stairivay 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf    213; 

Even  unbelievers  cannot  but  be  impressed  by 
the  crowded  array  of  crutches,  splints  and  other 
supports  of  a  crippled  body  piled  up  eleven 
tiers  high  about  the  pillars  at  the  rear  of  the  great 
church — all  left  by  their  former  owners  whose 
infirmities  were  here  cured.  Amongst  the 
various  articles  in  this  collection  I  noticed  a 
bottle  of  nerve  tonic,  and  there  were  several 
shoes  with  thick  soles  to  make  up  for  the  de- 
ficiency in  the  length  of  a  leg.  Could  it  be  possi- 
ble that  St.  Anne  had  made  the  shrunken 
limb  perfect  ?  Those  whose  sight  had  been 
rejuvenated  had  left  behind  their  glasses  in  great 
numbers;  but  there  were  blind  beggars  on  the 
pebbles  outside  rattling  a  few  coins  in  their  tin 
cups  to  attract  the  attention  of  visitors  to  their 
pitiable  condition — could  not  St.  Anne  heal 
them,  or  was  their  occupation  so  profitable  they 
did  not  wish  to  be  healed  ?  One  wall  case  in 
the  church  was  filled  with  a  decorative  arrange- 
ment of  pipes  and  snufF  boxes  left  by  tobacco 
users,  who  had  determined  under  the  inspiration 
of  the  place  to  be  clean  in  this  respect  also. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  neighboring 
chapels  is  that  of  the  Scala  Sancta  or  Holy 
Stairs,  a  short  distance  up  the  hill.  All  the  space 
in  front  is  very  thriftily  cultivated,  and  at  the 


214     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

time  of  my  visit  was  full  of  onions,  cabbages, 
carrots  and  other  vegetables  growing  in  neat 
rows.  The  stairs  are  a  facsimile  in  wood  of  the 
famous  twenty-eight  steps  of  white  marble  at 
Rome,  brought  from  Jerusalem  in  the  fourth 
century  and  placed  in  the  palace  of  the  Sover- 
eign Pontiff.  At  Jerusalem  they  are  supposed 
to  have  formed  the  staircase  leading  to  the 
Pretorium,  and  therefore  have  been  trodden  six 
times  by  the  footsteps  of  Christ.  As  at  Rome, 
so  at  La  Bonne  Sainte  Anne,  these  stairs  are 
deeply  venerated  by  all  pilgrims.  Each  step 
contains  a  relic  of  the  Holy  Land,  and  the  devout 
ascend  them  on  their  knees,  the  only  way 
allowed,  pausing  on  each  to  pray  or  meditate  on 
the  Passion  of  the  Savior.  From  the  top  of  the 
stairs  descent  is  made  by  a  flight  of  steps  on 
either  side  to  the  level  of  the  entrance. 

The  scenery  of  the  north  shore  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  beyond  Beaupre  is  very  inspiring  all 
the  way  to  the  Saguenay,  and  the  land  to  the 
south  is  so  dim  and  distant  that  the  voyage  along 
this  rugged  shore  is  much  like  skirting  a  sea  coast. 
The  constant  succession  of  big,  rude  heights 
rarely  affords  any  encouragement  to  human 
habitations.  Yet  here  and  there  a  small  hamlet 
has  established  itself  in  a  glen  or  clings  at  the 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  215 

foot  of  a  precipitous  bluff.  It  would  seem  as 
if  the  rocky  ramparts  along  this  shore  could 
hardly  have  presented  a  wilder  aspect  to  the 
early  explorers,  and  the  river  itself  is  even  now 
much  of  the  time  just  as  lonely  as  it  was  then, 
for  often  not  a  sail  or  a  steam  vessel  is  in  sight. 

About  thirty  miles  below  Quebec  is  a  little 
group  of  islands  in  mid-river,  the  largest  of  which 
is  known  as  Crane's  Island.  On  the  highest 
point  of  this  island  there  was  formerly  a  fine 
chateau.  Its  builder  was  a  gay  courtier  in  the 
social  circles  of  France  in  early  manhood.  He 
married  a  lady  of  great  beauty,  but  of  a  tempera- 
ment that  demanded  immediate  compliance 
with  her  slightest  wishes,  and  she  and  her  hus- 
band were  far  from  being  happy.  One  day  she 
upbraided  him  for  being  too  attentive  to  his 
acquaintances  among  the  court  beauties,  and 
he  proposed  that  they  should  put  themselves 
beyond  the  power  of  arousing  each  other's 
jealous  criticism  in  future  by  going  to  New 
France  and  building  a  home  in  some  secluded 
spot  beside  the  St.  Lawrence. 

This  wilderness  exclusiveness  suited  the  fancy 
of  the  lady,  and  they  journeyed  across  the 
Atlantic.  They  selected  Crane's  Island  for  their 
dwelling-place,  and  soon  the  feathered  denizens 


2i6     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

which  had  there  held  their  right  of  domain  for 
ages  were  frighted  to  other  haunts  by  the  hammer 
of  civilization  erecting  the  new  house. 

At  length  Chateau  Le  Grande,  as  the  owner 
called  it,  was  ready  for  occupancy,  and  in  this 
lonely  retreat  Monsieur  and  his  wife  at  first 
lived  very  happily;  for  they  both  loved  nature 
and  found  much  to  enjoy  in  their  picturesque 
surroundings.  The  years  passed  on  serenely 
until  Madame  became  aware  that  her  husband 
was  often  absent  from  home,  and  though  he 
made  liberal  and  plausible  excuses  she  was  not 
satisfied.  It  was  his  habit  in  these  absences  to 
go  away  across  the  river  in  a  boat.  One  day 
when  he  had  gone  off  thus  Madame  determined 
to  follow  him.  As  the  sun  was  sinking  behind 
the  purple  mountains  on  the  western  horizon 
she  rowed  across  to  the  opposite  shore.  She  had 
been  told  that  the  Indians  were  having  a  dance 
a  few  miles  above,  and  thought  she  would  find 
her  truant  husband  among  them.  Sure  enough, 
she  presently  came  to  a  village  in  a  forest  glade 
where  in  the  firelight  the  wild  pantomimic  dance 
was  in  progress,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  dancers 
was  her  husband  with  a  dusky  Indian  belle  for 
his  partner.  Madame  glided  forward  and 
confronted   him.     Over  her  shapely  shoulders 


t?. 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  217 

she  wore  a  thick  dark  cloak,  and  the  Indians 
fled  at  sight  of  her  tall  supernatural  figure, 
thinking  she  was  some  evil  spirit.  Monsieur 
alone  remained,  and  at  a  motion  from  his  wife 
he  followed  her  in  crestfallen  silence  as  she 
strode  away  into  the  darkness  toward  the  river. 
They  returned  to  their  chateau.  There  she  faced 
him  imperiously  and  said,  "When  you  brought 
me  here  from  our  old  home  across  the  ocean  you 
made  a  vow  to  grant  me  any  demand  I  might 
make,  if  you  proved  recreant  to  your  pledge  of 
fidelity.    Are  you  ready  to  fulfil  your  promise  ?" 

"Name  it,"  said  he. 

"You  are  never  to  leave  this  island  again  as 
long  as  you  live,"  she  responded. 

He  accepted  the  verdict  with  bowed  head, 
and  afterward  kept  to  the  chateau  and  its  imme- 
diate neighborhood.  But  the  place  had  lost  its 
former  cheerfulness,  and  instead  of  gaiety  there 
was  soberness  and  melancholy.  Finally  Mon- 
sieur died  and  his  lady  sailed  away  to  France, 
and  left  the  chateau  to  crumble  into  ruin. 

Another  island  having  more  than  ordinary 
interest  is  the  Isle  aux  Coudres,  so  named  by 
Cartier  from  the  abundance  of  hazel  trees 
growing  there  at  the  time  of  his  voyage.  When 
he  arrived  at  the  Isle  he  found  the  natives  busy 


21 8     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

catching  white  whales.  In  later  years  the  French 
took  up  this  industry.  The  method  employed 
was  very  simple.  Saplings  long  enough  to  reach 
above  high  water  were  driven  in  a  row  into  the 
shelving  beach  where  they  would  be  left  out  of 
water  at  low  tide,  each  end  of  the  row  stopping 
with  a  half  circle  curve  inward.  The  whales 
coming  with  the  tide  in  pursuit  of  shoals  of 
smelts  and  herrings  that  keep  close  to  the  shore, 
unwittingly  swam  into  the  trap  set  for  them. 
When  they  sought  to  return  they  found  them- 
selves confronted  by  this  curved  line  of  poles. 
In  their  efforts  to  escape  they  became  more  and 
more  frightened.  At  the  end  of  the  swaying 
barrier  the  twist  turned  them  back  on  their 
course,  and  they  continued  in  a  frenzy,  swimming 
up  and  down  till  the  ebbing  tide  left  them  high 
and  dry,  easy  victims  to  the  assaults  of  the  fisher- 
men. As  many  as  three  hundred  have  been 
captured  at  the  incoming  of  a  single  tide.  The 
whales  attain  a  length  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet, 
and  when  it  is  recalled  that  each  yields  an 
average  of  about  seventy  gallons  of  oil  worth  a 
dollar  a  gallon,  and  that  the  skin  is  very  valuable 
for  leather,  the  lucrativeness  of  the  employment 
is  evident,  provided  the  whales  are  reasonably 
plentiful. 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  219 

One  of  the  pleasures  of  voyaging  on  the  river 
here  is  to  vv^atch  the  porpoise-like  gambols  of 
these  whales,  and  it  is  of  interest  to  know  that 
the  waters  also  abound  in  halibut,  sturgeon, 
salmon  and  smaller  fish. 

A  neighboring  indentation  of  the  north  shore 
is  the  Bay  St.  Paul.  This  Bay  is  said  to  have 
been  the  center  of  a  fierce  elemental  war  in  1663. 
For  six  months  earthquakes  were  felt  through- 
out Canada.  Along  the  St.  Lawrence  meteors 
filled  the  air,  which  was  dark  with  smoke  and 
cinders,  the  grass  withered,  and  the  crops  would 
not  grow.  New  lakes  were  formed,  the  contour 
of  the  country  was  changed,  and  a  hill  slid  down 
into  the  river  and  formed  an  island. 

Another  story  of  the  instability  of  the  earth 
in  this  region  has  to  do  with  the  village  of  Les 
Eboulements.  This  used  to  stand  by  the  shore 
of  the  Bay,  but  the  river  made  such  encroach- 
ments that  about  1830  it  was  removed  to  its 
present  picturesque  but  exposed  position  on  the 
shoulder  of  a  great  ridge  a  thousand  feet  above 
the  water.  This  removal  and  the  region's  early 
earthquake  experience  have  given  rise  to  the 
romantic  legend  that  the  old  village  was  en- 
gulfed by  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  that  its  houses 


220     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

and  church  can  sometimes  be  seen  in  the  river 
•depths  when  the  water  is  clear  and  unruffled. 

Somewhat  farther  down  the  river  is  that  popu- 
lar resort  for  tourists,  Murray  Bay,  the  Newport 
of  the  St.  Lawrence.  On  the  east  side  of  the 
Bay  rises  the  lofty  Cap  aux  Corbeaux,  a  name 
given  to  the  peak  by  the  early  explorers  because 
of  the  crows  that  hovered  around  its  jagged 
cliffs.  Great  numbers  of  these  birds  continue 
even  to  this  day  to  build  their  nests  among  the 
inaccessible  crags,  and  the  caribou  browses  on 
the  wild  slopes,  and  the  bears  fatten  on  the  ber- 
ries of  the  dwarfed  bushes  clinging  in  the 
rocky  crevices. 

The  country  folk  affirm  that  the  mountain  is 
the  abode  of  demons,  and  that  in  the  days  of 
old  a  giant  held  sway  there.  But  the  cross  of 
Christ  brought  by  white  men  drove  this  barbaric 
monster  to  take  refuge  in  the  solitudes  of 
Labrador.  He  is  still  angry  at  having  been 
forced  from  a  throne  he  had  held  so  long,  and 
he  frequently  stamps  his  great  feet  wrathfully, 
and  gives  voice  to  threatening  thunder  tones, 
shaking  the  entire  north  shore  with  terrifying 
violence.  Thus  is  explained  the  occasional 
earthquake  shocks  to  which  the  region  is 
subject. 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf    221 

The  scenery  in  and  about  Murray  Bay  is 
exceptionally  wild  and  fine,  the  air  is  bracing 
and  the  fishing  excellent.  In  the  village  can 
be  had  all  the  comfiarts  of  civilization;  yet  a  few 
miles  back  from  the  river  the  country  is  an 
almost  unexplored  wilderness  of  rugged  hill  and 
forest — a  hunter's  paradise. 

The  next  place  of  importance  is  Tadousac  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Saguenay.  Below  there  no  one 
goes  on  the  north  shore  unless  he  is  a  salmon 
fisher,  and  the  interior  of  the  bordering  country 
retains  in  the  main  its  aboriginal  savagery.  The 
south  shore  has  inhabitants,  but  makes  no  very 
strong  appeal  in  a  scenic  way  until  the  gulf  is 
reached.  Here,  at  the  end  of  the  Gaspe  Penin- 
sula, is  Gaspe  Bay,  twenty  miles  in  length  and 
ending  in  a  basin  large  enough  to  shelter  a  thou- 
sand vessels.  The  Bay  was  early  known  to  the 
French  fishermen  and  explorers,  and  in  1534 
Cartier  had  erected  a  cross  on  the  shore  thirty 
feet  high,  decked  it  with  his  country's  flag  and 
proclaimed  the  region  around  to  be  a  possession 
of  the  King  of  France. 

A  little  farther  south,  rising  from  the  water 
just  off  a  projection  of  the  coast  is  Perce  Rock, 
five  hundred  feet  in  length  and  about  three 
hundred  high.     The  top  is  nearly  flat,  and  on 


222     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

all  sides  the  cliffs  descend  perpendicularly  to 
the  sea.  In  spite  of  its  massive  proportions  the 
pounding  waves  have  sculptured  an  arch  through 
the  rock  near  the  outer  end,  and  this  is  what 
gives  it  its  name.  The  strange  and  lonely  rock 
is  one  to  stir  the  fancy  and  it  is  no  wonder  that 
romantic  and  supernatural  tales  are  told  of  the 
vicinity.  One  of  these  stories  is  of  a  maid  of 
Brittany  whose  lover  was  among  the  earliest 
voyagers  to  come  and  seek  his  fortune  in  the 
wilderness  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  The 
maiden  would  have  accompanied  him  on  his 
hazardous  journey,  but  he  thought  it  best  she 
should  remain  behind  till  he  sent  for  her.  Soon 
after  reaching  Quebec  he  arranged  for  her  com- 
ing, and  wrote  to  have  her  cross  the  ocean  to  him 
on  the  next  ship.  She  hastened  to  comply,  but 
the  vessel  on  which  she  sailed  was  captured  by 
a  Spanish  corsair.  She  alone  of  all  those  on 
board  was  spared.  Her  beauty  had  so  appealed 
to  the  pirate  captain  that  he  announced  his 
intention  to  make  her  his  wife.  But  she  repelled 
his  advances,  and  neither  entreaty  nor  threat 
could  move  her.  Finally,  in  revenge  for  her 
persistent  refusal,  he  swore  that  she  should  never 
join  her  lover  in  Quebec,  but  that  he  would 
sail  up  the  river  past  the  town  on  the  crag,  and 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  223 

in  sight  of  its  inhabitants  she  should  be  put  to 
death. 

This  impending  fate  so  preyed  on  her  mind 
that  when  the  vessel  approached  the  mouth 
of  the  great  river  she  eluded  her  watchers  and 
sprang  overboard.  The  efforts  made  to  rescue 
her  were  in  vain  and  the  ship  went  on;  but 
shortly  afterward  the  lookout  saw  on  ahead  the 
form  of  a  woman  gliding  along  over  the  waves, 
her  clinging  garments  dripping  with  the  salt 
spray.  He  perceived  too  that  she  seemed  to 
have  some  mysterious  power  over  the  vessel, 
which  had  been  drawn  from  its  course  and  was 
moving  with  increasing  rapidity  toward  a  vast 
cliff  that  rose  from  the  sea  a  little  off  the 
wild  coast. 

An  alarm  was  sounded  and  every  effort  was 
made  to  turn  the  ship  in  another  direction. 
But  still  it  was  drawn  on  in  the  wake  of  the 
strange  feminine  figure,  and  the  frantic  orders 
shouted  by  the  captain  and  the  frenzied  labors 
of  his  crew  availed  nothing.  An  invincible  power 
controlled  the  ship  and  it  never  paused  till  it 
collided  with  the  great  rock.  That  same  instant 
the  vessel,  and  its  crew  and  all  that  was  in  it 
changed  to  stone  and  became  a  part  of  the  rock 
itself.    There  was  a  time  when  the  petrified  ship 


224     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

could  be  clearly  seen  on  the  face  of  the  cliff. 
The  waves  have  gradually  effaced  it,  but  a  cer- 
tain point  of  rock  still  remains  that  is  said  to  have 
been  the  vessel's  bowsprit.  The  wraith  of  the 
unfortunate  maiden  continues  to  linger  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  rock,  and  those  who  have 
seen  her  declare  she  is  very  beautiful.  It  is 
generally  believed,  however,  that  when  the  last 
vestige  of  the  ship  is  worn  from  the  rock  the 
lady  will  appear  no  more.  She  only  shows 
herself  at  sunset — which  was  the  time  she  leaped 
to  her  death,  and  at  that  hour  no  fisherman  of 
the  region  cares  to  hazard  his  luck  by  dropping 
a  line  for  fish. 

Another  tragic  spot  is  found  at  the  opposite 
side  of  the  wide  mouth  of  the  river,  where  is 
an  island  on  which  was  wrecked  an  ill-fated 
British  expedition  that  had  set  forth  to  conquer 
Canada  in  171 1.  There  were  nine  ships  of 
war  and  about  sixty  transports  and  other  vessels, 
carrying  in  all  some  twelve  thousand  men. 
The  fleet  was  in  charge  of  Admiral  Walker.  Its 
greatest  lack  was  pilots  for  the  St.  Lawrence, 
but  before  it  reached  the  river  a  French  vessel 
was  captured  commanded  by  a  skipper  named 
Paradis,  who  was  an  experienced  old  voyager 
and  knew  the  river  well.     In  consideration  of  a 


The  Falls  of  Montmorency 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  225 

liberal  bribe  he  consented  to  act  as  pilot,  but 
he  rather  dampened  the  ardor  of  the  admiral 
by  his  dismal  accounts  of  the  Canadian  winter. 
The  state  of  the  commander's  mind  can  be 
judged  from  this  entry  in  his  journal: 

"That  which  now  chiefly  took  up  my  thought* 
was  contriving  how  to  secure  the  ships  if  we 
got  to  Quebec;  for  the  ice  in  the  river  freezing 
to  the  bottom  would  have  utterly  destroyed  and 
bilged  them  as  much  as  if  they  had  been  squeezed 
between  rocks." 

However,  it  was  still  summer,  and  all  went 
well  till  the  evening  of  August  twenty-second. 
They  were  then  some  distance  above  the  great 
island  of  Anticosti  where  the  river  is  seventy 
miles  wide.  There  was  a  strong  east  wind  with 
fog.  Walker  thought  that  he  was  not  far  fron» 
the  south  shore,  when  in  fact  he  Vvas  com- 
paratively near  the  north  shore.  At  half-past 
ten  he  retired  to  his  berth  and  was  falling 
asleep,  when  an  officer  hastily  entered  and  begged 
him  to  come  on  deck,  saying  there  were  breakers 
on  all  sides.  The  admiral  scoffed  at  such  a 
possibility  and  would  not  stir.  Soon  afterward 
the  officer  returned  imploring  him  for  Heaven's 
sake  to  come  up  and  see  for  himself  or  all  would 
be  lost.    At  the  same  time  the  admiral  heard  a 


226     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

great  noise  and  trampling,  and  he  hastily  put  on 
his  dressing-gown  and  slippers  and  hurried  on 
deck.  Just  then  the  fog  opened  and  the  moon 
shone  forth  revealing  a  scene  of  fright  and 
confusion.  The  breaking  surf  was  in  plain 
sight,  but  by  making  all  sail  the  ship  succeeded 
in  beating  to  windward  and  avoiding  the 
danger.  Other  vessels  of  the  fleet  were  not  so 
fortunate  and  all  night  there  was  firing  of  cannon 
and  showing  of  lights  indicating  the  utmost 
distress.  *Tt  was  lamentable  to  hear  the 
shrieks  of  the  drowning,  departing  souls," 
writes  one  of  the  survivors.  Eight  transports, 
one  storeship  and  one  sutler's  sloop  were  dashed 
to  pieces,  and  nearly  a  thousand  men  perished. 
After  the  men  who  had  succeeded  in  reaching 
shore  had  been  rescued  it  was  decided  that  the 
expedition  should  be  abandoned,  though  it 
was  not  by  any  means  hopelessly  crippled.  But 
the  admiral  seems  to  have  been  possessed  by  a 
sort  of  nightmare  with  regard  to  the  Canadian 
climate.  He  even  saw  cause  for  gratitude  in  his 
own  mishaps;  because,  had  he  arrived  safe  at 
Quebec,  his  provisions  would  soon  have  been 
consumed,  and  he  and  all  his  men  would  have 
perished  of  cold  and  hunger.  "I  must  confess," 
he  says  in  his  journal,  "the  contemplation  of 


From  Cape  Diamond  to  the  Gulf  227 

this  strikes  me  with  horror;  for  how  dismal 
must  it  have  been  to  have  beheld  the  seas  and 
earth  locked  up  by  adamantine  frosts  and  swollen 
with  high  mountains  of  snow,  in  a  barren  and 
uncultivated  region;  great  numbers  of  brave 
men  famishing  with  hunger  and  drawing  lots 
who  should  die  first  to  feed  the  rest." 

The  expedition  had  aroused  great  anxiety  at 
Quebec  and  this  continued  until  the  nineteenth 
of  October  when  word  came  of  the  disaster. 
Three  Frenchmen  and  one  Indian  sent  to  watch 
for  the  English  fleet  had  descended  the  St. 
Lawrence  in  a  canoe  and  discovered  the  wrecks 
at  Egg  Island.  They  told  how  the  shore  was 
strewn  with  hundreds  of  human  bodies,  besides 
dead  horses,  sheep,  dogs  and  hens,  casks, 
cables,  anchors,  planks,  shovels  and  much  else. 

This  "miracle"  of  deliverance  was  interpreted 
at  Quebec  to  show  "God's  love  for  Canada, 
which  of  all  these  countries,  is  the  only  one 
that  professes  the  true  religion." 

Amazing  stories  circulated  concerning  the 
English  losses.  It  was  said  that  three  thousand 
of  "these  wretches"  died  after  reaching  land  in 
addition  to  the  multitude  that  was  drowned, 
and  even  this  did  not  satisfy  divine  justice,  for 
God  blew  up  one  of  the  ships  by  lightning  during 


228     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

the  storm.  Vessels  sent  to  gather  up  the  spoils 
came  back  laden  "with  marvellous  treasure, 
including  rich  clothing,  plate,  silver-hilted 
swords  and  the  like,"  and  reported  that  though 
the  autumn  tides  had  swept  away  many  of  the 
corpses,  more  than  two  thousand  still  lay  on  the 
rocks,  in  attitudes  of  despair." 

How  tragic  was  the  early  history  of  the  river! 
But  now  it  is  a  stream  of  commerce  and  pleasure, 
in  most  ways  wholly  beneficent;  and  for  stories 
of  human  woe  one  has  to  delve  into  the  shadowy 
past.  May  the  time  never  come  when  this  will 
be  otherwise! 


XII 

THE    BEAUTIFUL   SAGUENAY 

COMMERCIALLY  the  New  World  yielded 
little  to  the  French  for  many  years,  except 
to  the  fisherman;  but  the  wilderness  had  its 
treasures  as  well  as  the  ocean,  and  it  needed  only 
the  enticement  of  a  few  knives,  beads  and  trinkets 
to  induce  the  Indians  to  part  with  the  spoils  of 
their  winter  hunting.  Gradually  the  fishermen 
abandoned  their  old  vocation  for  the  more 
lucrative  trade  in  bear  and  beaver  skins.  They 
built  rude  huts  at  convenient  places  along  the 
waterways,  abused  the  Indians  and  quarrelled 
with  each  other.  One  of  their  trading-posts  was 
established  in  1598  at  Tadousac  where  the  Sague- 
nay  joins  the  St.  Lawrence.  A  cluster  of  wooden 
cabins  was  built  amid  the  wild  rocky  heights 
clad  with  pines,  firs  and  birches,  and  sixteen 
men  were  left  to  guard  the  expected  harvest  of 
furs.  Before  the  winter  was  over  several  of  the 
men  had  died,  and  the  rest  scattered  through 
the  woods,  living  on  the  charity  of  the  Indians. 
A  second  and  a  third  attempt  was  made  to  estab- 


230     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

lish  a  trading-post  at  Tadousac,  and  more  lives 
wasted. 

In  1608  the  French  king  granted  a  nobleman 
of  his  court  named  De  Monts  a  monopoly  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  fur  trade  for  one  year,  and  a  vessel 
was  dispatched  to  Tadousac.  When  it  arrived, 
Pontgrave,  the  commander,  found  a  Basque 
ship  there  ahead  of  him.  A  brisk  trade  was 
already  in  progress  with  the  Indians,  and  a  little 
back  from  the  cove  that  served  as  a  harbor, 
were  the  lodges  of  the  Indian  camp — stacks  of 
poles  covered  with  birch  bark.  Pontgrave  dis- 
played the  royal  letters,  which  gave  De  Monts 
the  exclusive  trading  rights,  and  ordered  the 
Basques  to  cease  their  traffic. 

But  the  latter  proved  refractory  and  fired  on 
Pontgrave  with  cannon  and  musketry,  wound- 
ing him  and  two  of  his  men  and  killing  a  third. 
They  then  boarded  his  vessel  and  carried  off 
his  guns  and  ammunition,  with  a  promise  to 
restore  them  when  they  finished  trading  and 
were  ready  to  return  home.  Champlain  in 
another  vessel  representing  the  De  Monts' 
interest  arrived  a  few  days  later,  and  the 
Basques,  though  strong  enough  to  fight  with 
reasonable  chance  of  success,  concluded  to  come 
to  terms.    A  treaty  of  peace  was  therefore  drawn 


The  Beautiful  Saguenay  231 

up  and  signed,  and  they  betook  themselves  to 
catching  whales,  while  Pontgrave  busied  him- 
self in  transferring  to  the  hold  of  his  ship  such 
furs  as  he  could  secure.  The  Indians  with  whom 
he  trafficked  were  Algonquins,  gatherers  of  the 
skins  of  the  moose,  caribou  and  bear,  and  of  the 
beaver,  martin,  otter,  fox,  wildcat  and  lynx. 
They  served,  too,  as  intermediate  traders  be- 
tween the  French  and  the  roving  bands  who 
inhabited  the  dreary  stretch  of  forest  between 
the  headwaters  of  the  Saguenay  and  Hudson's 
Bay.  In  their  light  canoes  the  fur-seekers 
penetrated  the  remotest  wilds  and  then  returning 
by  the  devious  waterways  descended  to  the 
mart  at  Tadousac. 

Several  Recollect  friars  came  to  the  New 
World  in  16 17  to  look  after  the  spiritual  welfare 
of  the  traders  and  Indians.  To  one  of  these 
named  Dolbeau,  was  assigned  the  vast  wilder- 
ness around  and  to  the  north  of  the  Saguenay, 
with  its  wandering  tribes  of  Montagnais.  Full 
of  zeal  he  started  the  next  winter  to  follow  the 
roving  hordes  to  their  frozen  hunting-grounds. 
But  he  was  not  robust,  and  his  eyes  were  weak. 
Lodged  in  a  hut  of  birch  bark  that  was  full  of 
dogs,  fleas  and  stench,  he  at  length  succumbed 
to  the  smoke  which  had  well-nigh  blinded  him. 


232     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

After  debating  the  matter  within  himself  he 
decided  that  God  did  not  require  of  him  the 
sacrifice  of  his  sight,  and  went  to  Quebec.  Yet 
in  the  spring  he  returned  and  journeyed  in  his 
territory  so  far  that  he  came  in  contact  with 
outlying  bands  of  Esquimaux. 

The  previous  summer  mass  was  said  for  the 
first  time  at  Tadousac  by  another  priest  of  the 
order.  The  ceremony  took  place  in  a  chapel 
built  of  branches,  and  two  sailors  stood  beside 
the  priest  waving  green  boughs  to  drive  off  the 
mosquitoes. 

Tadousac  was  the  center  of  the  Canadian  fur 
trade  for  many  years;  but  as  the  fur-bearing 
animals  disappeared,  so  did  the  commercial  and 
political  glory  of  the  village  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Saguenay.  The  appeal  of  the  region  up  the 
river  was  not  very  strong  to  settlers,  and  until 
about  1840  it  continued  to  be  a  wilderness, 
practically  unknown  except  to  the  few  hunters 
who  penetrated  its  fastnesses.  Since  then  its 
forest  resources  have  attracted  capital,  the  sec- 
tions adapted  to  farming  have  been  developed, 
and  various  thriving  towns  have  sprung  into 
being.  It  is  no  longer  a  region  of  isolated  trad- 
ing-posts. As  for  Tadousac,  that  is  now  a  quiet 
hamlet,  its  prosperity  less  dependent  on  com- 


M^isJLSljSi 


Chicoutimt 


The  Beautiful  Saguenay  233 

merce  than  on  its  noble  scenic  surroundings. 
It  has  the  distinction  of  being  the  first  French 
station  on  the  St.  Lawrence  from  which  evolved 
a  permanent  town;  and  there  is  still  standing 
in  the  village  a  little  church  which  was  the  earliest 
built  in  Canada.  However,  the  most  dominant 
feature  of  the  place  at  present  is  a  great  wide- 
spreading  wooden  hotel  for  summer  vacationists. 
The  vicinity  is  famous  for  its  fishing  which 
offers  a  variety  extending  from  the  Tommy  cod 
for  the  children  to  the  river,  lake,  and  brook  trout 
and  salmon  that  delight  the  most  exacting  angler. 
Without  doubt  the  Saguenay  trip  is  one  of 
the  greatest  attractions  that  the  St.  Lawrence 
Valley  has  to  offer.  It  begins  at  Quebec  and 
occupies  two  days.  The  start  is  made  down 
the  St.  Lawrence  in  the  early  morning,  and, 
touching  along  at  the  north  shore  villages,  you 
reach  Tadousac  in  the  evening  and  go  up  the 
Saguenay  at  night.  On  my  trip  up  the  latter 
stream  the  deep  starlit  sky  was  illumined  by 
faint  weird  streaks  and  bands  of  the  aurora,  and 
I  sat  long  on  deck  watching  this  electric  display 
and  the  black  mountains  that  guarded  the 
shores.  At  dawn  the  next  day  we  were  pushing 
along  intermittently  up  the  river  waiting  on  the 
pleasure  of  a  fog  that  was  slowly  drifting  ahead 


234     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

of  us.  So  we  were  much  behind  our  schedule 
in  arriving  at  Chicoutimi,  the  head  of  steamboat 
navigation.  This  place  is  the  great  lumber-yard 
of  the  north,  to  which  the  timber  is  brought 
down  chiefly  by  the  rapid  upper  Saguenay.  The 
name  of  the  town  is  an  Indian  word  that  means 
"Up  here  it  is  deep."  But  great  depth  of  water 
is  not  confined  to  Chicoutimi's  immediate  vicinity 
for  the  river  is  as  near  bottomless  as  it  well  could 
be  all  the  way  from  there  to  the  St.  Lawrence. 

An  interesting  stream  with  the  same  name 
as  the  town  joins  the  Saguenay  close  by.  It 
makes  a  descent  of  about  five  hundred  feet  in 
seventeen  miles.  Among  the  numerous  carry- 
ing-places beside  this  turbulent  river  is  one 
known  as  Portage  de  V  Enfant,  so  called  in  com- 
memoration of  the  remarkable  escape  of  an 
Indian  child  that  was  carried  over  the  neigh- 
boring falls.  These  falls  are  fifty  feet  high,  yet 
the  child  was  rescued  uninjured. 

The  source  of  the  Saguenay  is  Lake  St.  John, 
into  which  drains  a  vast  network  of  lesser  streams 
that  abound  with  beautiful  waterfalls.  The 
finest  of  these  cataracts  is  probably  the  Oui- 
atchouan  Falls  which  makes  a  foaming  descent 
of  more  than  three  hundred  feet  down  a  steep 
ledge.     All   this   section   of  country  is   thickly 


The  Beautiful  Saguenay  235 

studded  with  lakes,  and  there  is  the  best  of 
fishing,  and  much  large  game  such  as  deer, 
bear,  moose  and  the  wapiti.  Perhaps  nowhere 
else  in  the  vast  basin  of  the  St.  Lawrence  will  the 
sportsman  and  the  lover  of  the  grand  and  beau- 
tiful in  nature  find  better  reward  for  their  toil. 

A  good  deal  of  geological  interest  attaches  to 
the  rock  formation  of  the  region;  for  the 
Laurentide  range  forms  the  backbone  of  the 
oldest  mountain  chain  on  the  globe.  In  the 
glacial  period  of  our  planet's  history,  a  cold 
salt  sea  similar  to  that  between  Labrador  and 
Greenland  covered  a  great  part  of  this  Lauren- 
tian  country  to  the  depth  of  hundreds  of  feet. 

There  is  a  peculiar  geological  interest  also  in 
the  individuality  of  the  Saguenay.  The  stream 
occupies  a  tremendous  chasm  where  occurred 
a  fault  in  the  ancient  Archaean  rock.  Here  a 
glacier  made  for  itself  a  deeply  eroded  bed, 
and  when  the  ice  melted,  the  sea  filled  the  vast 
defile.  At  its  mouth  the  river  is  at  least  six 
hundred  feet  deeper  than  the  St.  Lawrence, 
and  the  scenery  along  its  lower  course,  for  some 
sixty  miles  is  magnificent.  The  tides  run  very 
strong  in  this  wide  channel,  and  sometimes 
attain  a  height  of  eighteen  feet. 


236     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

It  is  the  custom  of  the  steamboat  to  wait  at 
Chicoutimi  till  advantage  can  be  taken  of  the 
ebb  flow,  and  on  my  trip  we  did  not  start  until 
nearly  noon.  For  a  long  time  we  went  on  amid 
scenery  that  was  in  no  wise  remarkably  striking. 
But  at  length  the  boat  rounded  Cape  West  and 
proceeded  to  the  head  of  Ha!  Ha!  Bay,  a  charm- 
ing sheet  of  water  about  two  miles  wide  and 
seven  long.  Its  name  is  supposed  to  be  derived 
from  the  laughing  exclamations  of  the  early 
French  explorers,  who  sailed  up  the  Bay  under 
the  impression  that  they  were  following  the 
main  channel  of  the  river,  and  soon  found 
farther  progress  barred.  At  the  head  of  the 
Bay  is  the  picturesque  village  of  St.  Alphonse; 
and  the  sight  of  it  was  the  more  welcome  because 
usually  on  this  river  trip  we  had  not  a  single 
habitation  in  view. 

As  we  continued  southward  the  bordering 
hills  were  higher,  and  at  the  waterside  was  a 
constant  succession  of  precipices  of  solemn  and 
impressive  grandeur,  scantily  enlivened  by 
vegetation.  The  scenery  culminates  at  Capes 
Trinity  and  Eternity.  These  twin  promontories 
soar  upward  in  almost  perpendicular  cliffs  from 
the  water's  edge,  and  between  them  a  little  bay 
opens  inland.    Cape  Trinity  gets  its  name  from 


The  Beautiful  Saguenay  237 

the  fact  that  it  lifts  its  great  mass  in  three 
successive  heights.  This  makes  it  suggestive  of 
the  steps  of  a  mighty  flight  of  stairs,  and  each 
step  is  about  six  hundred  feet  high  making  a 
total  of  nearly  two  thousand  feet.  It  is  of 
interest  also  to  know  that  the  water  at  the  base 
of  the  capes  is  said  to  be  as  deep  as  they  are  high. 
These  stupendous  cliffs  dwarf  everything  else  of 
this  nature  to  be  found  in  the  eastern  portion  of 
the  continent,  and  the  bald  eagle  builds  its  nest  in 
the  niches  of  the  precipices  secure  from  intrusion. 
Immense  blocks  of  the  rock  have  fallen  out,  leav- 
ing areas  of  shadow  and  clinging  overhanging 
masses  that  are  a  terror  and  a  fascination  to  the 
eye.  Some  years  ago  there  was  a  great  fall  of  rock 
just  as  the  steamer  which  loiters  here  for  the 
pleasure  of  the  tourists  had  passed  from  under 
and  blown  its  whistle  to  arouse  the  echoes. 
"The  echo  came  back  and  with  it  a  part  of 
the  mountain  that  astonished  more  than  it 
delighted  the  lookers-on." 

John  Burroughs,  in  relating  his  impressions 
of  Cape  Eternity,  says  that  when  the  vessel  was 
sailing  close  around  the  base  of  the  precipice 
"One  of  the  boys  of  the  steamer  brought  to  the 
forward  deck  his  hands  full  of  stones  that  the 
curious  ones  among  the  passengers  might  try 


238     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

how  easy  is  was  to  throw  one  ashore.  'Any 
girl  ought  to  do  it,'  I  said  to  myself. 

"Seizing  a  stone,  I  cast  it  with  vigor  and 
confidence,  and  as  much  expected  to  see  it 
smite  the  rock  as  I  expected  to  live.  'It  is  a 
good  while  getting  there,'  I  mused,  as  I  watched 
its  course.  Down,  down  it  went —  '  It  will  ring 
on  the  granite  in  half  a  breath.'  No,  down  into 
the  water,  a  little  more  than  halfway!  'Has  my 
arm  lost  its  cunning  ?'  I  said,  and  tried  again 
and  again,  but  with  like  result.  The  eye  was 
completely  at  fault.  There  was  a  new  standard 
of  size  before  it  to  which  it  failed  to  adjust 
itself.  The  rock  is  so  enormous  and  towers  so 
above  you  that  you  get  the  impression  it  is  much 
nearer  than  it  actually  is.  There  is  an  aston- 
ishing discrepancy  between  what  the  eye  reports 
and  what  the  hand  finds  out." 

Bayard  Taylor  has  spoken  of  the  Saguenay 
as  the  "River  of  Death,"  and  there  has  been  an 
inclination  to  describe  it  as  silent  and  gloomy, 
and  so  narrow  and  environed  by  dark  cliflFs 
that  the  sunshine  rarely  penetrates  to  its  sombre 
channel,  and  no  breeze  can  reach  its  unruffled 
waters.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  usually  a  mile 
or  more  broad  and  the  light  of  heaven  and  the 
winds  play  over  it  as  they  do  over  other  streams. 


The  Beautiful  Saguenay  239 

Nor  are  you  inclined  to  melancholy  as  you  sail 
its  waters  and  view  the  changing  scene,  unless 
you  have  brought  your  melancholy  with  you. 

The  bordering  region,  however,  with  its 
stony  mountains  bulwarking  the  river  offers 
little  encouragement  to  home  seekers  or  even 
for  grazing.  Many  of  the  heights  have  been 
swept  by  fire  recently  enough  to  bear  witness 
to  the  fact  by  their  bristling  of  charred  tree- 
trunks  still  standing,  and  their  lack  of  vegetation. 
Much  of  the  soil  has  been  burned,  or  has  been 
washed  away  after  losing  the  protection  of' the 
shade  and  fibrous  roots  of  the  forest.  The  flinty 
slopes  indeed  seem  never  likely  to  support  a 
fine  woodland  in  the  future.  Ordinarily  the 
devastation  was  begun  by  the  lumberman  and 
fire  completed  the  ruin  of  the  once  noble  forest 
along  the  Saguenay.  Wherever  the  white  man 
goes  into  the  wilderness  the  havoc  of  fire  seems 
to  go  with  him.  This  was  illustrated  by  what 
was  told  me  of  the  building  of  the  railway  from 
Quebec  to  Lake  St.  John.  It  was  a  great  expense, 
the  rocks  on  the  route  were  so  hard;  yet  it  cost 
the  public  far  more  than  the  outlay  of  the  railway 
company;  for  the  fires  carelessly  allowed  to 
escape  by  the  workmen  burned  millions  of  dollars 
worth  of  forest. 


XIII 

THE     ST.     LAWRENCE     IN     WINTER 

ABOVE  Quebec  the  river  is  icebound  from 
early  December  until  April.  Below  Que- 
bec there  is  ice  in  plenty,  too;  but  it  does  not 
freeze  hard  and  fast  from  shore  to  shore.  With 
the  ebb  and  flow  of  every  tide  the  broken  masses 
go  surging  now  down,  now  up;  and  while  navi- 
gation on  the  lower  river  is  not  impossible,  only 
one  or  two  government  boats  continue  active. 
All  other  traffic  is  abandoned,  and  the  ocean- 
going vessels  do  not  resume  their  trips  much 
before  the  first  of  May;  for  there  is  a  long  after- 
math of  winter  in  this  great  waterway.  The 
river's  quieter  portions,  and  the  various  streams 
and  broad  lakes  that  are  tributary  to  it  freeze  to 
a  great  thickness.  The  ice  breaks  up  at  different 
times  in  different  localities,  so  that  the  series  of 
"ice-shoves"  the  St.  Lawrence  experiences 
extends  over  several  weeks.  As  the  ice  crowds 
along  down  the  channel  it  jams  and  piles  up 
and  often  forms  bergs  of  enormous  size.  At  no 
time  is  the  aspect  of  the  river  wilder. 


b- 


o 


^ 


CJ 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter      241 

I  chose  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  this  northern 
waterway  in  February,  because  I  had  a  fancy 
that  then  I  would  find  winter  most  impressive — 
that  all  the  accumulated  snows  of  the  preceding 
months  would  be  on  view,  and  that  frost  and 
keen  winds  would  be  as  rampant  as  they  are  in 
the  bitterest  days  of  the  season  in  Boston  or 
New  York.  But  the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
has  not,  after  all,  a  climate  so  radically  different 
from  that  of  our  adjacent  states  as  we  are  in- 
clined to  imagine.  Spells  of  soft  weather  in 
February  are  almost  a  certainty,  and  even  a 
January  thaw  is  looked  for  with  a  good  deal  of 
confidence.  But  the  natives  all  affirm  that 
winter  does  not  relax  its  grip  for  good  until 
March  seventeenth.  I  at  first  wondered  why 
they  named  this  date  with  such  exactness  and 
assurance.  When  I  asked  for  a  reason  they 
mentioned  that  the  seventeenth  was  St.  Patrick's 
Day.  So  much  warmth  is  developed  on  the 
occasion  that  not  even  a  Canadian  winter  can 
withstand  it. 

The  weather  at  Montreal  at  the  time  of  my 
visit  was  decidedly  mild.  There  had  been  a  day 
of  rain  immediately  before  which  had  carried 
off  a  good  deal  of  the  snow,  yet  all  the  vehicles 
drawn  by  horses  were  still  on  runners.     Much 


242     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

of  the  natural  accumulations  of  snow  on  the 
chief  business  streets  had  been  previously 
carted  off,  and  the  thaw  had  taken  most  of  the 
rest.  What  remained  had  been  compacted  by 
travel  into  ice,  but  it  was  so  dirty  that  traffic 
moved  very  laboriously.  Many  a  load  got 
stranded  on  the  bare  tracks  of  the  car  lines,  and 
if  the  struggle  to  get  off  seemed  at  all  doubtful 
a  crowd  would  gather  to  watch  the  solving  of  the 
problem.  The  spectacle  was  especially  fascinat- 
ing if  a  horse  attached  to  a  sled  showed  its  dis- 
approval of  the  situation  by  kicking. 

Except  on  the  main  thoroughfares  the  snow 
continued  to  be  very  plentiful,  and  there  were 
amazing  heaps  along  the  gutters,  and  in  the 
yards  of  residences,  and  in  nooks  about  the 
buildings.  Some  of  the  churches  were  half 
buried  in  the  masses  that  had  slid  down  from 
the  roofs.  One  effect  of  the  warm  spell  was  to 
bring  out  the  frost  in  great  white  patches  on  the 
thick  walls  of  the  houses  of  worship  and  other 
stone  structures.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting 
glimpses  of  the  winter  city  were  to  be  had  by 
going  through  the  occasional  archways  that  give 
access  from  the  business  streets  to  little  courts 
and  areas  in  the  rear.      The  snow  heaps  there 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter       243 

on  earth  and  galleries  and  huddled  roofs  were 
sure  to  be  exceedingly  picturesque. 

I  early  sought  the  waterside  to  see  how  winter 
had  changed  the  stream  opposite  the  city.  Not 
an  atom  of  its  warm  weather  vivacity  remained. 
It  was  a  vast  vacancy  of  snowy  ice,  except  for 
dark  glades  of  rippling  water  where  the  current 
was  swiftest.  The  wharves  which  are  so  busy 
in  summer  were  deserted  by  all  shipping  and 
were  cleared  of  much  of  their  ordinary  fixtures 
to  give  free  sweep  to  the  ice-shoves.  Yet  many 
teams  were  coming  and  going  along  shore,  some 
bringing  freight  to  or  from  the  cars  on  the  rail- 
road that  skirts  the  wharves,  others  getting 
goods  from  the  great  warehouses  on  the  piers; 
and  there  was  a  long  procession  of  little  one- 
horse  sledges  that  were  carrying  surplus  snow 
from  the  town  to  dump  it  by  the  river  borders. 

A  few  weeks  previous  there  had  been  a  ten- 
days'  ice  carnival  in  the  city,  and  an  ice  palace 
had  been  built  on  the  upland  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluff  of  Mount  Royal.  The  Montreal  ice 
palace  is  famed  all  over  America,  and  pictures  of 
it  appear  in  the  papers  everywhere.  It  is  some- 
thing so  unique  and  the  idea  of  celebrating  the 
pleasures  of  winter  so  charms  the  fancy  that 
there  is  a  widespread  desire  to  see  the  glittering 


244     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

structure.  Nevertheless  the  number  of  visitors 
it  actually  draws  from  the  States  is  compara- 
tively small.  The  drift  of  humanity  in  winter  is 
toward  a  warmer  climate,  and  people  shrink 
from  encountering  the  rigors  of  a  more  northerly 
section  than  that  to  which  they  are  accustomed, 
even  though  they  acknowledge  theoretically 
that  the  steady,  dry  cold  usually  characteristic 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  valley  in  winter  is  invigorat- 
ing, healthful  and  pleasurable. 

The  ice  palace  as  a  winter  feature  of  Mon- 
treal has  not  proved  a  success  financially,  and 
there  is  some  doubt  of  its  being  erected  in  future. 
Its  crystal  walls  and  aspiring  towers  and  turrets 
cover  a  considerable  area,  and  both  the  size  and 
the  castle-like,  medieval  architecture  are  im- 
pressive; but  the  cost  of  construction  is  too  great 
for  the  patronage.  The  blocks  of  ice  used  are 
enormous  and  weigh  about  five  hundred  pounds 
each.  They  are  handled  with  derricks,  and  are 
cemented  together  with  a  mixture  of  snow  and 
water.  At  night  the  building  is  lighted  by 
electricity,  and  on  certain  special  occasions 
there  are  displays  of  fireworks,  and  a  battle 
takes  place  between  a  storming  party  and 
defenders. 


The  road  up  Mount  Royal 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter      245 

The  people  of  Montreal  are  by  no  means 
unanimous  in  approving  of  the  palace.  Some 
object  to  it  because  they  think  it  advertises  the 
frigidity  of  the  region,  and  they  fear  possible 
visitors  will  be  repelled  rather  than  attracted. 
They  themselves  make  a  brave  claim  that  their 
winter  is  not  disturbingly  severe  or  disagreeable, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  in  many  ways  they  en- 
joy it.  But  I  am  persuaded  from  chance  re- 
marks made  to  me  that  they  find  it  rather  tedious 
and  at  times  decidedly  harsher  than  they  relish. 
For  instance,  one  lady  told  me  how  a  stranger 
stopped  her  on  the  street  with  the  remark: 
"Excuse  me,  but  your  nose  is  frozen."  "And 
it  was,"  she  said,  "but  I  was  warned  in  time  so 
that  little  harm  was  done." 

The  city  has  numerous  covered  skating  rinks 
in  which  ice  sports  are  enjoyed  to  perfection  all 
winter.  Both  sexes  resort  to  these  rinks,  and  the 
fancy  dress  carnivals  afford  a  very  attractive 
spectacle.  Of  the  various  games  played  on 
the  ice  hockey  is  the  favorite,  and  there  is  much 
rivalry  between  the  clubs  of  the  different  cities. 
A  well-contested  match  is  a  sight  that  is  ex- 
tremely graceful  and  interesting.  Skating  is 
perhaps  the  amusement  that  has  the  most 
devotees,    but    tobogganing    and    snowshoeing 


246     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

are  also  very  popular.  Montreal  boasts  of  about 
twenty  snowshoe  clubs,  and  as  each  club  has 
its  distinctive  uniform  of  bright-colored  blanket, 
coat,  and  cowl,  a  procession  of  snowshoers  on  a 
tramp  presents  a  very  gay  and  enlivening 
appearance. 

Mount  Royal  is  the  winter  playground  of  the 
people.  They  can  take  advantage  of  the  splen- 
did sleighing  on  the  long,  easy  grade  of  the  road 
that  winds  around  the  height  through  the 
woods;  or  they  can  put  on  snowshoes  and  go 
climbing  through  the  hollows  and  over  the  ridges 
and  along  the  bypaths;  or  they  can  resort  to 
the  magnificent  toboggan  slide,  well  up  toward 
the  summit  on  the  gentle  southern  slope.  One 
may  grant  that  in  the  city  itself  the  snow  and 
cold  constitute  something  of  a  nuisance,  but 
there  is  no  question  that  on  Mount  Royal  the 
crystalline  air  and  the  clean  omnipresent  mantle 
of  the  snow,  and  the  joy  and  warmth  of  activity 
and  lively  sport  are  wholly  delightful. 

To  see  the  ideal  St.  Lawrence  winter,  how- 
ever, the  traveller  must  visit  Quebec.  It  is 
farther  north  than  Montreal,  is  more  steadily 
cold,  and  gets  more  deeply  buried  in  snow. 
The  weather  had  taken  a  chill  turn  while  I  was 
on  my  way  thither,  and  when  I  arrived  a  bleak 


Snoxi'hounJ , 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter      247 

wind  was  blowing  that  almost  took  me  off  my 
feet  in  the  exposed  places.  But  the  town  was 
really  adorable,  it  looked  so  genuinely  yet 
snugly  cold.  Everywhere  was  frost  and  snow — 
the  place  was  enveloped  in  white,  and  even  the 
grim  cliffs  and  battlements  were  half  hidden. 
There  was  beautiful  sleighing,  and  the  vehicles 
were  generally  fascinating  in  their  quaintness. 
They  were  low,  clumsy  and  heavy,  and  the 
runners  were  made  out  of  planks  set  on  edge  and 
gracefully  curved  at  the  front  and  shod  with 
iron.  The  milk  carts  and  shopkeepers'  convey- 
ances usually  had  a  step  at  the  back  where  the 
driver  stood. 

For  pleasure  riding  the  favorite  sleigh  is  what 
is  called  a  "cariole."  It  is  of  the  same  type  that 
I  have  described  and  has  sides  rather  more  than 
knee  high.  Wraps  and  fur  robes  are  supplied 
in  abundance,  and  the  finest  robe  in  the  outfit 
hangs  loosely  over  the  back,  giving  the  cariole 
a  jaunty  air  of  warmth  and  luxuriousness  that  is 
quite  enticing. 

The  horses  of  the  town  are  sure-footed  beasts, 
and  I  could  not  but  be  astonished  at  the  alacrity 
with  which  they  jogged  down  the  steep  descents, 
often  making  a  long  slide  at  every  footstep.  I 
think  the  people  must  be  sure-footed,  too;    for 


248     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

the  walks  were  covered  with  ice,  and  it  appar- 
ently was  not  considered  necessary  to  sprinkle 
them  with  ashes  or  sand.  In  places,  however, 
rude  steps  had  been  cut  in  the  ice  on  the  steeper 
walks,  and  I  noticed  that  if  the  grade  and 
slipperiness  were  excessive  the  pedestrians  often 
resorted  to  the  streets. 

Evidently  the  townsfolk  on  the  whole  enjoyed 
the  winter;  for  I  saw  no  shivering  discomfort, 
but  much  of  brisk  energy.  Everyone  seemed  to 
be  prepared  for  the  cold  and  ready  to  withstand 
its  utmost  rigors.  That  its  sharpness  was  often 
superlative  was  attested  by  the  common  habit  of 
wearing  a  fur  hat,  and  very  likely  a  fur  coat,  or 
at  least  a  generous  fur  collar. 

There  were  marvellous  accumulations  of 
snow  where  it  had  drifted  or  been  shovelled 
into  heaps,  and  some  of  the  narrower  streets 
would  probably  have  been  filled  to  the  tops  of 
the  buildings  that  lined  them,  had  the  snow 
not  been  carted  off.  That  curious  little  street. 
Sous  le  Cap,  was  a  weird  sight,  in  spite  of  all 
the  clearing  that  had  been  done.  Snow  was 
clinging  everywhere  on  roofs,  stairways  and 
rocks,  and  it  piled  up  in  the  street  so  that  it 
was  impossible  to  keep  it  entirely  out  of  the 
adjacent  houses. 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter       249 

The  rigor  of  winter  was  even  more  apparent 
when  I  climbed  to  the  citadel  on  the  exposed 
summit  of  the  bluff.  The  fortress  was  half 
buried,  and  the  approach  to  it  was  guarded 
against  the  drifts  by  a  long  snowshed.  Down 
below,  the  river  was  a  mass  of  broken  ice,  and 
the  water  showed  only  in  occasional  streaks  and 
patches.  In  the  quiet  intervals  between  the 
tides  the  ice  is  apt  to  freeze  into  an  almost  con- 
tinuous mass,  but  when  the  current  is  strong  it 
is  broken  up  again  and  swept  up  or  down  the 
stream,  whichever  way  the  tide  is  setting. 

Two  stout  ferryboats  ply  back  and  forth 
across  the  river  and  do  much  to  keep  the  ice 
moving.  They  follow  the  open  lanes  when  they 
can,  yet  do  not  hesitate  to  butt  into  the  floes 
and  crunch  along  through  them.  In  the  wild 
winter  storms  the  prevailing  wind  crowds  the 
ice  against  the  Quebec  shore,  and  then  the 
ferryboats  may  be  an  hour  or  more  in  crossing. 
Ordinarily,  no  trips  are  made  between  midnight 
and  six  in  the  morning;  but  when  the  weather 
is  cold  a  sharp  watch  is  kept,  and  if  the  ice 
shows  signs  of  forming  a  permanent  bridge  the 
boats  start  out  to  break  it  up.  Only  once  in 
the  last  twenty  years  has  the  river  here  been 
icebound.    To  quote  the  words  of  my  informant: 


250     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

"The  ice  caught  in  January  and  formed  a 
bridge  fifteen  miles  long  that  lasted  the  rest  of  the 
winter.  We  walked,  skated  and  drove  all  around 
on  it,  and  held  carnivals  out  in  mid-river." 

Two  or  three  important  railroads  have  their 
Quebec  terminal  on  the  south  shore  of  the  river, 
and  such  a  blockade  is  so  serious  a  matter  that 
every  effort  is  made  to  keep  the  ice  moving. 
The  portion  of  the  river  that  flows  north  of 
the  Isle  of  Orleans,  however,  is  frozen  over  and 
people  drive  back  and  forth  between  the  main- 
land and  the  island  at  various  places  for  months. 

The  aspect  of  Quebec  was  satisfactorily 
wintry,  but  I  wanted  also  to  see  the  outlying 
country,  so  I  journeyed  down  the  river  to  one  of 
the  rural  villages,  and  trudged  for  many  miles 
along  the  drifted  roadways.  It  was  storming 
and  the  wind  drove  the  prickling  sleet  against 
my  face,  and  whirled  it  over  the  fields  to  pile  it  up 
in  the  lee  of  the  hills  or  other  obstructions. 
The  snow  lay  even  with  the  tops  of  the  fences. 
Never  before  had  I  seen  a  region  so  buried;  and 
yet  I  was  told  there  was  not  half  as  much  snow 
this  winter  as  usual,  and  that  the  recent  thaw 
had  settled  it  about  three  feet. 

After  each  storm  it  is  customary  to  go  over  the 
road  with  a  scraper  that  smooths  the  snow  off,  and 


(*, 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter       251 

then  with  a  roller  that  packs  it  down  hard.  The 
hardened  trail  is  wide  enough  to  allow  teams  to 
pass  each  other,  but  woe  betide  the  driver  who 
gets  off  the  rolled  space.  To  prevent  such  stray- 
ing the  more  doubtful  portions  of  the  road  are 
marked  with  spruce  saplings  thrust  in  at  inter- 
vals along  the  hardened  portion. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  snow  would  linger  till  mid- 
summer, but  the  spring  rains  and  warm  winds 
that  sweep  through  the  valley  carry  it  off  like 
magic.  As  soon  as  it  softens  travel  is  practically 
impossible,  for  the  horses  at  every  footstep  sink 
down  almost  out  of  sight.  Most  people  then 
either  wait  for  a  freeze,  or,  if  the  season  is  too 
far  advanced  to  expect  such  hardening,  the  men 
get  out  with  shovels  and  open  a  rough  way 
through  the  worst  places. 

The  storm  I  encountered  did  not  appear  to  de- 
ter the  people  from  going  about  their  work. 
They  were  sawing  wood  in  their  dooryards, 
piling  sleds  with  pulpwood  by  the  roadside,  and 
driving  loads  to  the  village.  The  homes  I  passed 
were  not  very  attractive.  As  a  rule  the  houses 
were  small  and  their  architecture  was  preten- 
tious and  tawdry.  There  was  a  fatal  desire  to 
make  a  show,  especially  at  the  front,  which  was 
often  painted  to  imitate  stone  or  brick  and  had 


252     The  Picturesque  St.  Lawrence 

a  very  ornamental  door  and  window-casings. 
It  mattered  not  if  the  rest  of  the  structure  was 
commonplace  and  even  shabby,  if  only  that 
deceptive  front,  which  deceived  nobody,  was 
sufficiently  palatial.  The  only  quiet,  simple 
and  beautiful  dwellings  were  the  occasional 
stone  houses  that  date  far  back  into  the  past, 
and  which  most  likely  are  despised  by  the  local 
public  for  their  lack  of  attractiveness.  The 
surroundings  of  the  houses  were  usually  quite 
devoid  of  the  saving  touch  of  grace  that  shelter- 
ing trees  would  have  lent  them,  and  this  bleak- 
ness of  aspect  is  the  more  regretable  because 
it  is  unnecessary. 

I  did  not  have  much  luck  in  chatting  with  the 
people  I  met,  for  they  could  rarely  speak  any- 
thing but  French.  Most  of  them  are  poor,  and 
— poor  or  rich — they  are  economical  by  habit 
and  "live  on  the  smell  of  an  oil  rag,"  as  one 
valley  man  informed  me. 

They  probably  have  the  most  attenuated 
farms  to  be  found  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Some  of  the  strips  are  hardly  wider  than  the 
dwellings  that  stand  on  them;  but  I  could  see 
fences  that  marked  the  boundary  lines  sweeping 
far  away  up  the  slope  to  a  fringe  of  spruce  in  the 
distance,  and  extending  in  the  other  direction 


The  St.  Lawrence  in  Winter      253 

down  the  steep  hill  and  across  the  lowland  to 
the  river. 

That  the  deep  snows  and  the  cold  and  the 
fierce  storms  of  the  winter  must  have  been 
frightful  to  the  early  explorers  in  a  savage  wil- 
derness, I  could  easily  comprehend;  but  now, 
with  assurance  of  food  and  shelter,  the  season's 
ugly  aspect  is  gone,  and  it  offers  to  the  traveller 
much  that  is  delightful.  "No  matter  how  cold 
it  is,"  said  one  Canadian,  "I  can  work  every 
day,  and  I  feel  in  the  mood  for  working,  too. 
That's  more  than  the  people  can  say  who  live 
in  warmer  regions  where  they  don't  have  a  good 
snappy  winter.  I  wouldn't  want  to  exchange 
our  climate  for  any  other;  and  yet,  I  tell  you,  it 
looks  good  in  the  spring  when  the  frost  weakens 
its  grip  and  the  snow  melts  and  we  begin  to  see 
the  brown  of  the  fields." 

Certainly  the  St.  Lawrence  is  one  of  the  noblest 
and  most  interesting  of  our  great  waterways, 
and  a  visit  to  it  is  well  repaid  in  either  summer 
or  winter.  Best  of  all  see  it  at  both  seasons,  for 
only  so  can  you  feel  that  you  have  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  its  charms. 


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granite  cliffs  of  Broadway  to  where  "the  serpent 
of  stars"  winds  around  the  morningside  curve,  has 
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